In the hour of need I can count on you
by Kirasum
Summary: Athos goes on his own on a "simple" mission ...
1. Chapter 1

_This story goes back to the theme of the "Saturday Stories" on the fb fanpage "The Musketeers BBC UK"._

 _Theme of the last week was "Athos", followed this week by "Aramis"._

 _My story focusses mainly on Athos and how his friends are acting when he doesn't return home from a simple mission ..._

 _My thank goes out to my friend Ebm36 who encouraged me to start writing fanfiction and to for my lovely betas Beth and Helensg for the whole story and particularly to Beth for proofing chapter 1. (Checking it over, so that I can publish it today.)_

 _Thank you so much! All remaining mistakes are mine._

 _Please leave me a review and tell me what you think about it. Thank you xx C_

 _Enjoy!_

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 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors of this story.**

 **The authors are in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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Pain, unbearable pain ... He tried to stand, but the stabbing pain made him collapse on the dirty ground near an old tree. He felt his heart galloping in his chest and sweat was covering his front, running down his pale cheeks already, he began to feel dizzy, his head was spinning and he could feel that he was losing his fight against oblivion.

Several minutes earlier he had been still sitting on his horse, on his way back from a simple mission.

" _I need one of you to go to the palace and bring a missive from the Queen to a friend of hers in Chateau Fontainbleu",_ Captain Tréville had told his men, who had gathered in a half circle around his office desk. Aramis was already eager to bring the letter, he longed to see the Queen again, after they had rescued her from Gallagher and his men two weeks ago, he hadn't had a chance to see her again. But before Aramis could open his mouth Athos' stepped in and said in his typical voice that didn't give anything away from his emotional state: "I will do it. It's only a half day's ride away and Roger could use some exercise, I should be back by dusk," and before any other of his brothers could offer to accompany him, he was already on his way.

It hadn't been a problem to deliver the missive in time to the young noblewoman, who smiled at him warmly. For a short moment he felt reminded of his wife. She had a beautiful face, but instead of green, intelligent pale blue eyes smiled at him and her dark brown hair -which she wore loose - fitted with the dark green dress.

After he had fulfilled his duty and was asked to bring another letter back to the palace but not before the next day, he had decided to return a different way through some smaller woods and over green grass fields to give Roger more space to gallop. He enjoyed the fast ride. About ten miles away from Paris he had to slow his horse down, a small dark forest opened in front of him and it would have been too dangerous to gallop through it.

He was deep in thoughts, thinking about how he could restrain Aramis from doing more stupid things regarding the Queen. He loved his brother, but he feared that Aramis wouldn't stop thinking of this one particular night and do something foolish soon.

How can I protect you, my brother …

He didn't hear the arrow flying through the air, which entered his left thigh. Surprised from the sudden pain he screamed out loud. His hand clutched at the arrow, but he didn't dare to pull it out.

Roger, who was disturbed by the loud and anxious scream of his master and who sensed that something was wrong quickened his pace. Athos slammed forward. He fastened his grip on Roger's mane and rested his head on his horses' neck.

"Bring me to safety!" He whispered into Roger's right ear, while feeling the soft mane on his cheek and the black stallion followed Athos' order. Out of the forest, further to the undulating green landscape with high green grass stalks which were waving softly in the evening wind, which always arrived at that time of the day.

Athos' soon lost his strength. He tried to keep his eyes open but he felt it harder and harder to achieve that. Shock was setting in. He wasn't sure if the unknown enemy –probably bandits- could follow his fast stallion. With his last strength which he felt leaving his body from minute to minute he forced himself to scan the landscape. In the open field beyond another hill he could see some trees and he managed to urge Roger in their direction.

He knew this area … with a fast gallop he could have reached the garrison in about a quarter of the time, but on the one hand he knew that Roger couldn't hold this fast gallop for very long and on the other hand he hadn't had the power anymore and would shortly be passing out. He couldn't risk falling from his horse and break his own neck.

Finally he reached the first of the trees, he slid down from his horse and tried to walk over to the tree and lean his back against its trunk to inspect the wound that was now bleeding heavily -He had no idea why, probably due to the movement his thigh had to endure while riding.- At least that was his plan, but when his injured leg touched the ground, he couldn't stand up anymore and he collapsed in a heap on the cold ground. Exhausted he closed his eyes. The pain was hammering in his leg -where the arrow was still sticking- and he felt his fast heartbeat palpitating in his chest.

The last thought his confused mind could form -before he passed out- was a prayer that his brothers would come and find him in time …

 _ **To be continued …**_

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I dedicate this story to all of my friends who are having a rough time right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Wow, I didn't expect such a feedback to my first part. Thank you so much, for reading, fallowing, favouring this story. This means a lot to me._**

 ** _Many thanks again to Beth and Helensg for proofreading._**

 ** _I'm sorry that I hadn't time to update earlier … busy life …_**

 ** _This story belongs to the Saturday Stories in the FB Group The Musketeers BBC UK. I will try to update at the beginning of each week here on ff net._**

 ** _I still need to put up a reclaimer. I will post it in chapter 1 very soon._**

 ** _Please leave me a comment/review and tell me what you think about chapter 2._**

 ** _Thank you xx C_**

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 **Part 2 – focussing on Aramis**

Aramis kicked a small stone angry over the garrison courtyard, which landed at a pillar next to the place, where he had put the shovel with which he just had cleaned several horse boxes. Aramis hated stable duty … but all his brothers were busy with other tasks …

The heat was burning on his hands, neck and bare arms, because he had put off his white shirt to spare it from sweating in it. Exhausted he stretched his arms and considered to sit down, for a while on their favourite bench and drink a cup of cold water.

It was hot - much too hot for his liking and even his big hat, which he lifted from time to time to use as a fan, didn't help him to flee from the hot sunrays. Exhausted he dropped on the wooden bench and eagerly drank two cups of water.

He was angry … so angry, angry about everything: the world, Tréville, Athos … and himself.

Why hadn't Tréville sent him together with Athos on this simple mission?

Or why had Athos not asked him to come along? Of course he knew the answer to that.

He had really wanted to go along to see the Queen … Anne … to talk to her … to …

What? What was he thinking. The incident at the convent was only several weeks ago. A few days ago the Queen had announced that she was with child and he, he couldn't stop asking himself over and over again the same questions. Instead of being able to talk and to ask his true love he had to wait, to be patient, to get a chance to see her in private.

He'd waited for days now for a chance like today and Athos simply decided in his stubborn way that he would go on his own on a mission.

 _You are a fool Aramis. You want to know if the child the Queen is pregnant with is yours ..._

 _My daughter … my son … it doesn't matter … what matters is, that I am the father. I can feel it. Deep in my heart, in my soul, I know that this child is mine._

 _What have I done … How can I help … When can I finally talk with her?_

Aramis took off his hat and ruffled his thick brown hair his left hand, thus he tried to get rid of his angry thoughts.

Duval walked by and asked him:

"Are you already finished with your stable work, Aramis? If so, Captain Tréville wants to see you. He's told me that you should hurry up."

"Ha, Tréville, I would have finished by now, if it wasn't only me doing the stable duty, but Porthos and d'Artagnan are at the palace and Athos is away on a mission." He stood up wearily from the bench, walked over to the other Musketeer and slapped him with his right palm on his back.

"I think I am really happy that you just came by. Wait!" Aramis walked over to the pillar where he had left the shovel, grabbed it and brought it back with him. He handed it in Duval's direction.

"Here, you can finish and I will go and see what the Captain wants from me." He offered Duval his most convincing smile, but Duval knew Aramis too well and said:

"Sorry, I can't help you, but why is Athos on a mission on his own? Or do you mean that once again he's drinking himself into stupor in a shabby tavern?" Duval shook his head and moved on.

Confused Aramis looked after Duval. Of course the other Musketeers knew that Athos had his problems and that from time to time he vanished into a tavern to mourn the shadows of his complicated past, but never when he was on duty and on a mission.

The marksman looked up to the sun and realised that it was already late afternoon, early evening. He had completely forgotten about the time and through the heat of the sun he'd still thought it was early afternoon, not early evening.

 _Athos where are you? You should be back by now?_ He thought. Had he missed the return of his brother? Curiously he went back to the stable.

 _Oh no, you didn't return and steal away from me just to avoid helping with stable duty, you wouldn't do that. It's one thing to stop me from seeing the Queen to protect me, her, us … but ..._

He stepped into the semi-dark stable and his eyes needed some time to accustom to the darkness. As soon as he could see clearly he looked over to Roger's box, but the intelligent black stallion, which always observed him with his dark eyes, hadn't returned yet, so probably his master hadn't either.

 _Athos, where are you? Maybe you have stopped by the palace to retrieve another missive for the Queen. That's it and there you have met up with Porthos and d'Artagnan. Stop feeling so uneasy … stop worrying Aramis … you are childish …_

But the odd feeling didn't want to leave him. He sensed that something was wrong, but what?

Loud noises outside the stable startled him suddenly. He heard shouts, the trotting of a horse and loud neighing. Without hesitating any further he ran back into the courtyard and paused stock-still, shocked by what he observed.

Near to their favourite bench Roger was standing, moreover walking up and down and pawing the ground more than once. The black stallion was neighing and it was obvious that he was anxious and wanted to tell them something. Several other Musketeers who had been disturbed by the loud noises came looking, some tried to reach Athos' horse but the stallion didn't want to be touched or calmed, so they stopped trying.

Captain Tréville, who had been alarmed by the loud noises in his office, ran down the steps, which lead to his balcony and shouted:

"What's this all about? Why is Roger standing here alone in the courtyard and behaving like a wild animal? Wait? Where's Athos?" He looked irritatedly at Aramis - his mouth wide open - then he scanned the whole courtyard for his Lieutenant, but he couldn't see him anywhere. "He should have returned by now, shouldn't he?" He asked with a concerned voice he couldn't hide.

Aramis didn't answer but approached the black stallion and with his soothing and calming voice he managed to reach for Roger's reins and keep them in a firm grip.

"It's alright Roger, where is Athos?" He talked to the horse and managed to touch his neck. Roger laid his ears back and stopped stamping his hooves. Cautiously he touched Aramis' hand with his nose.

"He's still wearing Athos's brown saddle." Tréville remarked from behind. "I don't like that, Aramis, it's not like him, Athos would never let Roger …" He paused as he heard other horses arriving in the archway which led into their courtyard. Their hooves were clattering over the stone floor. He turned his head and noticed Porthos and d'Artagnan, who were just arriving from their palace guard.

"What's wrong?" Porthos shouted as he sensed the tense atmosphere, while d'Artagnan jumped from Zad and came over to them at once.

"Where is Athos?" He asked, recognising his horse, but not his rider. He approached Aramis and softly stroked over Roger's flank. The black stallion calmed even more.

D'Artagnan frowned suddenly. He felt something wet on the fur of the black animal. As he pulled away his hand to have a better look at it he stared horrified at his own palm. He felt slightly dizzy from the substance which left a salty smell in his nose.

Aramis followed the young Gascon's glance, then he grabbed d'Artagnan's hand and examined the sticky substance on it.

"That's blood!" He exclaimed. "Is Roger hurt somewhere? Let me have a closer look."

Aramis searched the fur of the animal, but he couldn't find any trace of a wound, but some fresh blood.

In horror he looked up to Porthos.

"I think that's Athos's blood. Something must have happened to him … it's the only explanation why Roger is here. He came to fetch help. Damn …"

As Aramis went silent to try to sort his own thoughts and to calm himself he heard a voice in the distance:

"We have to find him." Tréville stated firmly looking from one of the Inseparables to the next. "It's not like him to return by foot and the blood on Roger's fur augures ill. I fear that Athos needs our help." He added in a low voice, fearing for the welfare of his officer.

"But where shall we look for him, he could be anywhere." Porthos scratched his hair.

"I think he must be near to the garrison." D'Artagnan said.

"Why do you think so?" Aramis asked.

"Do you see those green flowers in Roger's fur. They are very rare around Paris, but I know a field nearby where they are growing this time of the year - I know them from our farm."

"Where is this field?" Porthos urged with an anxious voice.

"It's really close, about fifteen minutes by horse." D'Artagnan hurried to explain.

"What are we waiting for?" Porthos boomed. "Let's move. Athos is obviously wounded or in grave danger or both and needs our help, I think if we follow d'Artagnan's direction and take Roger along, we will find him."

"Wait, I will fetch my horse and my medical kit!" Aramis shouted while already running to the stables ordering Jacques to saddle his horse.

 _I should have gone with you Athos. I don't know what happened to you, but the amount of blood on Roger's fur is not good, you must be gravely injured ... I hope you didn't fall from your horse. I … we need to find you … fast … or I fear for your survival …_ _Please be alright … Please ..._

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much for reading, following and favouring my story. Here is part 3.1._

 _Due to the length I decided to part it. My special thanks go out to Beth and Helen and my medical consultant Bir._

 _While waiting for my co-author to bath the guinea pig so that we can write the final part of our story later today, I take the chance to update my "Saturday Story"._

 _This time the focus is on Porthos._

 _Enjoy xx Kira_

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 **Porthos Part 1**

While d'Artagnan took the lead, Porthos and Aramis followed them. The young Gascon had decided to mount Roger. Athos's horse only permitted a few other people to ride him and d'Artagnan was one of them. The intelligent horse soon found that he could trust the young farm boy. D'Artagnan always thought that one of the reasons was that Athos trusted him as well. He was busy with reassuring the stallion, which wanted to gallop but d'Artagnan bent down over his left ear and whispered calming words, telling the horse that it would need his strength to bring Athos home. It didn't surprise the young man that Roger led them in the direction of the meadow, fields and a few trees, outside of Paris, where d'Artagnan had estimated that the stallion must have left his owner in a hurry.

Porthos sensed the anxiety of the young boy. He felt the same and a look to his right side, where Aramis was riding next to him, told him that his friend blamed himself and feared for the welfare of their friend.

"I thought you would go with Athos?" Porthos silently said to Aramis.

"You heard him this morning, he wanted to go alone." Aramis answered evenly.

"And that stopped you?" Porthos raised an eyebrow and observed his brother's concerned face critically from the side.

"Well, the Captain had another task for me." Aramis tried to avoid eye contact with his friend.

"A very important task." Porthos snorted. "Stable duty? What's wrong with both of you. Something has happened between him and you at the Convent, I don't know what, I don't know why, but after that you started acting weirdly around each other. Both of you. Do you think I'm blind?" Porthos stated angrily. Aramis could hear the concern resonating in Porthos' voice.

"Not, now Porthos." Aramis tried to calm him and settle his own nerves. Let's concentrate on finding Athos first. "Don't you think I'm blaming myself right now, that I didn't go along, I wanted to go with him, but as soon as I entered the courtyard he was already seated on Roger and I could see him leaving the archway in a hurry. I couldn't stop him this morning, Porthos."

Aramis tried to hide his own emotions now and Porthos could hear from the sound of the trembling voice that his friend was fighting with his tears.

"I'm sorry Aramis. I know you are right, let's find our stubborn Comte and afterwards, after he is safe and sound, we can settle this." Porthos slapped with his right hand on Aramis' back, then he looked up to see in which direction they where heading.

Roger started to move faster and faster and they had to concentrate on the narrow path that lead to the eastern suburbs of Paris, so that their own horses wouldn't flounder and fall.

For a short moment Porthos felt silent. In the distance he could hear d'Artagnan's shouts to reassure Roger. Even if it was already late afternoon, it still was very hot, but Porthos ignored the sun, which now was burning on his shirtsleeves.

 _What has happened between my best friends? Why won't they tell me what's wrong? It's not like Athos to go on a mission on his own … well, going alone into a tavern and drinking himself half to death moreover, but he has always told me that if we are in our uniforms and on a mission, we should never ride on our own. Never._

 _I wish I had insisted that he or Aramis had told me what had happened at the Convent, I tried, but Athos only shrugged his shoulders and had his typical expression in his eyes, which make it impossible for me to read him and Aramis only grumbled that he was mad with Athos because their Lieutenant had decided to commit suicide as he went on his own behind Gallagher._ Porthos thought.

He had asked: " _That's all. It's our duty and you know Athos, if he faces a situation such as happened at the Convent he would always sacrifice his own life for you. He loves you, Aramis. So for God's sake go for a drink with him, discuss it, say what you have to say and get over it , both of you."_

Aramis had told him that he would follow his advice and he believed him, but right now he was no longer sure , if they really had talked over whatever happened at the Convent.

 _Nevertheless I can't blame Aramis … if Athos decided to go alone … it is due to the fact that he can be stubborn sometimes. It maybe has nothing to do with Aramis, why he decided to go alone ... Wait he told us he wanted to give Roger some more time to ride with him. Perhaps he simply wanted some time off and this weather is wonderful to go on a ride …_

Porthos was driven out of his contemplations as Roger suddenly stopped and d'Artagnan had to struggle not to fall off him. Roger became more and more agitated, neighed loudly and wanted to speed up and bolt ahead, but d'Artagnan managed to calm him again.

"Something is making him anxious." Aramis shouted as he closed up with d'Artagnan.

"Perhaps you should ride on Zad. Aramis was leading d'Artagnan's horse behind him the whole time.

Porthos scanned their surroundings and with his dark brown eyes he observed the rolling landscape. Due to the high green grass it was impossible to see the ground but in the distance he spotted a single tree. Roger obviously wanted to go in this direction.

"Maybe he's over there." D'Artagnan shouted to his friends pointing to the same tree, which Porthos had just discovered a few seconds before.

"We cannot see because of the high grass, but I think it is a little crushed over there." Aramis agreed.

"Let's have a look!" Porthos shouted. They had already decided to continue when they first heard loud shouts, then the galloping of horse hooves. Three riders, wearing black uniforms were heading directly to the tree they wanted to go too.

"Quick!" D'Artagnan shouted. "I fear those men are after Athos." Without waiting for his friends he allowed Roger to move on and the stallion raced to reach the tree.

"Do you know what!" Porthos mumbled.

"You hate when he does this." Aramis answered without any sign of a smile on his lips. The other riders had swords in their hands and they were obviously hunting for something or someone.

Porthos allowed Flip to quicken his pace, while he felt Aramis doing the same with the horses he had to take care of.

"There!" D'Artagnan shouted who was nearer to the tree than his brothers were and had now reached a higher spot to look over the landscape. "There is someone lying next to this tree. It could be … no I think it's Athos. It's his uniform." He turned his head back towards Aramis and Porthos.

"Is he moving?" Aramis shouted back.

"I can't say for sure, but those men are definitely after him." He shouted back.

Aramis looked over to Porthos then he shouted:

"Take care of those men, I will check on Athos."

Porthos nodded then he changed his direction and headed towards the first one he had spotted with a sword. He gripped the hilt of his own sword and was ready to draw it. With his loud booming voice he shouted:

"Stop, in the name of the King. We are the King's Musketeers. What are you doing here?"

The first man, small built and smelling of garlic paused, then turned his head and decided to go after Porthos and not after the man who was lying, probably dead, on the ground, hidden under the high blades of grass, but he couldn't confront Porthos, because suddenly d'Artagnan appeared out of the nowhere next to him. He jumped from Roger, his sword drawn, ready to fight the whole world to protect his mentor.

 _ **To be continued …**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Here is the second part of my Porthos story following the Saturday Story theme "Porthos" of the fb page The Musketeers BBC UK.**_

 _ **Many thanks again to Beth who really filled this chapter with English expressions and to Helen for havening a second look. xx**_

 _ **Thanks to my medical consultant Bir. I hope I've avoided the major mistakes, if there are still some left it is my doing not hers.**_

 _ **I really enjoy your reviews and feedback. Thank you so much. Due to one review I thought again over my plot and changed it ... this does mean my story will be longer as I had planned it, but not as long as our other story. Promise.**_

 _ **Enjoy and leave me a comment what you think about it**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

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 **Porthos Part 2**

In the meantime Aramis had reached Athos. He jumped from Fidget and bent over the lifeless form of his brother. Athos was lying on the dirty floor and it appeared to Aramis that he had tried to reach the nearest tree. One hand was outstretched, one leg behind. Athos head lay in the green grass, face down. Aramis gasped out loud as he noticed the arrow in his friends's left leg. It had run through his upper leg, but hadn't come out on the other side.

Ignoring the battle that was going on behind his back and trusting that his brother would be able to deal with three unknown fighters or bandits, he knelt next to Athos's head. He couldn't see his face, so he softly turned him onto his back to have a better look at his brother's state of health. Carefully he protected his head and put his own jacket under it, which he unstrapped from himself in haste.

Athos' eyes remained closed the whole time, his face was paler than the white of his shirt, and he made no sound as Aramis touched him further. Frantically he took off his brown leather gloves and checked Athos' neck for a pulse with his right hand. When he felt his fingers trembling too much, he gave up, he lifted his friend's shirt and placed his palm instead on Athos' chest. He could feel Athos' rapid heartbeat, then he bent his ear over Athos' mouth he could feel his irregular warm breath meeting the skin of his own reddish cheek.

 _Thank God you are alive._ Aramis felt tears burning in his eyes and he wiped them angrily away.

Next he checked the wound on Athos' thigh. He grabbed his blue scarf, which he was wearing around his hip and carefully wrapped it around both sides of Athos' leg, trying to stop the bleeding, which sipped slowly from the wound. He bandaged the leg by avoiding touching the arrow. He wondered why the wound was bleeding, normally the arrow would have worked like a cork so that the blood could not flow, but maybe Athos had tried to retrieve it or what might be more plausible the arrow moved in his leg, while Athos was galloping with Roger.

 _Damn … you are losing too much blood, Athos._

"Come on, wake up. Open your eyes, Athos." Aramis shouted, but still no reaction, which worried Aramis even more. He continued to talk to Athos:

"Have you fallen from Roger. I can't imagine that he would have allowed that. He came to the garrison to alarm us, so that we could help you."

Slowly Aramis checked Athos's scalp for any wounds. He stroked with his right hand through the thick curly brown hair.

"I can't feel any bumps on your head and I feel no blood." He softly told Athos, but his brother still didn't show any signs of waking.

 _Hmm ... I don't think that you have hit your head. So no concussion. Why don't you wake up?_

"Come on Athos, open those green eyes of yours." He softly slapped Athos's cheeks, but still no reaction. Slightly frustrated but even more worried he checked Athos whole body for further wounds beside the arrow in his thigh, but he couldn't find any other injuries.

"How is he?" He heard Porthos soft voice suddenly next to him.

"Not good, Porthos, he was hit by an arrow, here." The medic pointed with his finger at Athos's thigh. "I don't dare to remove it right now, nevertheless I think have to. I don't know why but he is still losing blood and he hasn't shown any signs of waking yet. His heart is beating much too fast for my liking and he is breathing irregularly. We need to bring him to a doctor as soon as possible, but therefore we need a wagon." He sighed, while he rested his palm on Athos's chest, needing to feel that his brother's heart was still beating.

D'Artagnan hurried over to them.

"The last man is wounded, but he escaped on his horse, the others are dead. I checked." He paused as he finally realised that Athos was lying on the floor unconscious and not moving, he gasped.

"Is he …" Aramis could see that d'Artagnan's face was losing all his colour and he feared that the young man would collapse next to his patient.

"No, d'Artagnan." Porthos laid his arm protectively around his shoulder and drew him further towards him, while squeezing it softly. "But he has been wounded by this arrow and he needs surgery soon."

"Has he said anything?" D'Artagnan tried to blink some tears away as he still stared horrified at the arrow in Athos's leg, surrounded by the a small bloody circle where the fabric of his trouser was broken.

"Alas no, I wish he would wake up." Aramis combed his hand through his thick dark hair, scratching his scalp nervously, then he turned to his brothers.

"Alright, we need a wagon to transport Athos back. I doubt that he will survive a ride on his horse. D'Artagnan can you please organise a wagon and bring it here as soon as possible, and inform the Captain, he should send for a doctor." Aramis advised.

D'Artagnan paused for a short moment, but a soft push and the low voice of Porthos in his ear _that everything would be alright_ made him finally jump.

"I will be back as soon as possible. Take good care of him." With these words said he mounted Zad and galloped away in the direction of the garrison, but not before turning his head back to the lifeless form of Athos.

 _Stay alive, please stay alive._

"What now?" Porthos asked. "Do you want to wait for the wagon?"

"I doubt that Athos has the time, we need to remove this arrow now, clean the wound and sew it as soon as possible."

"How can I help?" Porthos asked softly.

"Sit with him, while I fetch my medical kit and several blankets. But first we need to carry him out of this burning sun. Let's do this first. The tree he tried to reach will spread enough shade and then we need a fire and warm water too …"

Porthos and Aramis carried their still unconscious friend under the large tree. The streetfighter had grabbed Athos under his armpits so that his head rested on Porthos' chest. Aramis took his legs very carefully in order not to move the dangerous object any further. After they had brought Athos under the cooling shade of the tree Aramis went over to his horse to search for the needed items he had listed earlier, while Porthos sat down next to his brother, leaning his back on the tree trunk. Then he carefully laid Athos's head in his lap and started to stroke his curly hair.

"Hey, Athos, can you do me a favour and open your eyes, please." Porthos bent over Athos's ear and softly whispered into it. Pleading with him to fight and come back to them, to not give up. He buried his face in Athos's hair as he felt the first tears running down his cheeks. He knew exactly why Aramis had sent d'Artagnan away and he feared that Aramis would be right.

 _I don't want to lose you Athos. You can be stubborn and sometimes very complicated, but you are my friend. I need you, Aramis needs you and the boy … d'Artagnan …_

"I will not allow you to give up. Do you hear me, Athos. Damn you, fight!"

Suddenly Porthos remembered the day -as recently as yesterday- when he first met Athos. It had been a hot summer day similar to the weather they were just experiencing right now, six years ago. Porthos had been busy with training new recruits in his "dirty" fighting tricks - as he called them himself, when Tréville had entered the courtyard with a young man, who obviously smelt and looked drunk.

"Take care of him, Porthos. Make sure that he sobers up and then train him with the new recruits." Tréville had ordered, then, without any further explanation, he had left him and climbed the stairs to the balcony, which led to his office.

Curiously Porthos had stared at the young man, who was probably several years older than himself. He looked like a vagabond, his clothes ripped, his thick hair and beard much too long and unkempt. For a short moment Porthos wondered if his Captain had lost his mind. The man in front of him didn't say a word, but he looked as if he would be sick the next minute.

"Do you want to become a Musketeer?" Porthos had asked him, but he only received an unimpressive stare, that didn't give away anything.

Then the man shrugged with his shoulders, but didn't move, besides he was swaying dangerously.

Porthos had had enough from this stranger but Tréville's orders had been clear, so he walked over to their well, fetched a bucket filled with cold water, went back to this stinking man and poured the entire contents over the man's head.

"Do that again ..." The man had dangerously growled after shaking himself like a dog to get rid of the cold water his hand suddenly rested on the tilt of an expensive sword.

"Now that's a start." Porthos smiled. "You are talking to me. The Captain told me to get you sober. I think this is a very effective way, so stop threatening me, what's your name?" He tried it again.

"Athos." Was the only answer Porthos received.

"Fine Athos. I'm Porthos. Do you want to become a Musketeer?" Porthos tried it again.

The young man ignored Porthos again, took some further steps in the courtyard, where he noticed a bench and decided to sit down.

The streetfighter followed him. Still not sure what he should make of this young man.

Porthos shook his head as he remembered how this stranger had become like a brother to him during the past years. He still wasn't the talkative type, but his strategical thinking was brilliant and more than once Athos had saved his life.

 _Why do I recall this now? Athos … I can still remember how Aramis joined us at this table and tried to talk to you and find out more about you … You had no plan back then what you wanted to do with your life and I think you simply couldn't answer at all because you were so drunk. He smiled softly._

Porthos didn't hear the first soft moan that escaped Athos's lips, he was too lost in his own thoughts about their first encounter, but he suddenly felt Athos's left hand, which landed uncoordinated in his dark curly hair and brushed over it.

Confused from the touch he looked up and stared in two green-blue shimmering eyes, which observed him through half opened lids.

"Por … th … os!" Athos mumbled. "I knew … you would … come … and find me …"

"Shhh …, everything will be fine again. Are you in any pain?" Porthos softly asked, while angrily wiping his tears away. Then he reached for Athos's hand and softly put it back to the ground, while pressing it with his tender fingers.

"My leg … I can't move my leg … What …?"

Athos blinked confused and tried to reach with his hands for his left leg. The movement made his whole body scream and he couldn't suppress another loud moan.

"Easy. Lie still." Porthos soothed him while reaching now for both hands with his own and pushing them softly back next to Athos' upper body.

"Where ... am … I?" Athos panted heavily, as he finally started to search the surrounding with his eyes.

"Near to the garrison … we'll bring you home." Porthos answered hardly audible.

"We?" Athos asked confused and blinked several times with his eyes.

"Yes, we." Athos could hear Aramis soft voice suddenly next to him on his left side. "Welcome back." Aramis smiled and squeezed his left arm tenderly, while kneeling next to his side.

Before Athos could answer, Aramis was already busy in his medic role.

"Here drink." Aramis pressed a bottle of water to Athos's lips and Porthos helped him to drink some sips, whilst lifting his head a little. Athos managed several gulps, then he turned his head away and Porthos helped to lie him down again.

"How bad … and don't lie … to me." Athos suddenly panted. Sweat was glistening on his face, which Aramis wiped away with a wet cloth he had prepared earlier.

"I need to remove this arrow and stop this bleeding. I'm sorry it can't wait and I have no pain potion with me." Aramis explained, but he wasn't sure, if Athos could follow all his explanations.

Athos gritted his teeth together and mumbled:

"Just do it, I don't want to have this object in me any longer."

He tried to reach the arrow with his hands and wanted to pull it out, so that Aramis wouldn't need to do it, but the medic grabbed his hands and fixed them in a firm grip.

"Don't Athos, it will kill you!" He shouted much too harshly and Athos -squeezing his eyes shut because of the loud noise in his ears- let his hands drop back sluggishly onto his stomach.

"Athos, do you know what happened?" Porthos asked softly to ease the tense atmosphere a little.

"An arrow ... hit me ... in my leg … but I don't know … I tried to reach … the garrison, but … I felt dizzy … and couldn't remain upright … on Roger any longer …"

Athos closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath as a jolt run down his spine. He started to shiver and Porthos gently stroked his arms to give him needed warmth.

"I feel … so cold … mis." Athos panted. He opened his eyes and searched for Aramis' as they finally locked eyes he whispered.

"I know … I'm dying … it's not … your … fault … I simply … wanted to …"

Athos couldn't finish his sentence his eyes rolled back in his head. For a short moment Aramis and Porthos could see the white in them before his eyelids closed. Porthos' felt Athos head hitting his lap.

Frantically Aramis put his palm on Athos's chest and felt for his heartbeat. He could feel Porthos' piercing look, too anxious to ask if their friend was still alive.

 _ **To be continued …**_

* * *

 ** _I dedicate this story to my co-author Ebm36. Yes, this morning we have finished our very first fan fiction:_**

 ** _"The past is never where you think you left it"_**

 ** _What an adventure. We spent the past six months nearly every day on and with it. In the beginning E thought we would write only 30 pages,_**

 ** _well ... I knew that if I write something it would be definitely a little longer than that but I never estimated that it would take us 6 months._**

 ** _It was my pleasure to write with you and if I have more time I would love to do it with you again. Thank you for your friendship._**

 ** _Thank you as well to Beth and Helen who joined us on our way and supported us all the way long and are still supporting us._**

 ** _We have learned so much about the English language from both of you. Thank you !_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hey there,**_

 _ **here is the next part of my Saturday Story.**_

 _ **This time it focusses on d'Artagnan.**_

 _ **Many thanks to Beth for proofreading !**_

 _ **Thank you again for your comments, reading and following this story.**_

 _ **Tell me what you think about this part.**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **D'Artagnan - Part 1**

"Thank God I can feel his heartbeat. Very fast. He's still alive." Aramis bent down over Athos's mouth. He's unconscious again but we need to close the wound now. I cannot wait or I fear that we will lose him …"

"What did he mean that it is not your fault, Aramis? What did he want to do?" Porthos shouted anxiously at Aramis.

"Not now, Porthos. Later!" Aramis sucked in a deep breath. "Come help me to lay him on this blanket and then we need to heat this fire. I have to operate on him now." Aramis instructed Porthos and ignored his questioning look.

 _You simply wanted to protect me Athos, as always, I know, Athos … I know, but I can take care of myself. I can …_ Aramis thought, frustrated by the fact that Athos had been severely injured.

Aramis forced himself to get rid of these thoughts and tried to concentrate on the task in front of him. He wasn't sure if he could stop the bleeding. If the arrow had pierced an artery they would lose him, but he still had hope and so he started to pray, while he waited for the boiling water and prepared all the implements he would need: knife, needle and thread and more bandages. He pulled off his shirt and started to cut it in pieces.

Porthos helped him to prepare Athos for the surgery as best as he could. He cut away the swordsman's trousers and the white braries on the injured leg, then he brought a second blanket and covered Athos cold upper body with it, in the meantime Aramis managed to boil some water over a hastily made fire, lucky that he had had a small pot in his saddlebag and a flask with water.

"Ready?" Aramis asked and Porthos only nodded in silence.

 **XXXXX**

Captain Tréville paced uneasily up and down in the courtyard. The doctor he had sent for hadn't arrived yet and Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan had now been away for over an hour.

 _Oh Athos, why didn't I insist that you take Aramis along. If I'd known …_

He heard the arrival of a horse and looked up. D'Artagnan had just crossed the archway on Zad. Roger was nowhere to be seen and neither Aramis nor Porthos were with them.

"I need a wagon!" D'Artagnan shouted. Quick!"

Tréville moved forward and grabbed the reigns from Zad.

"Have you found Athos? Is he alright?" He looked into the eyes of the young man.

He realised that d'Artagnan had obviously cried and for a short moment he wasn't sure what to say, but then he ordered in a firm tone.

"D'Artagnan, look at me. What has happened?"

"Athos … he will need a doctor … we've found him … he's injured. I think Aramis sent me away so that I won't have to watch him die."

"What?" Tréville anxiously exclaimed. His blue eyes wide, his face paled.

But d'Artagnan ignored Tréville's loud shout.

"I shall fetch a wagon and return as fast as possible and Aramis also asked for a doctor to treat Athos's wound."

"Where is he wounded, d'Artagnan. What happened?" Tréville repeated his last question.

"They have shot him with an arrow and it's still in his upper leg. Two bandits are dead, one is injured but on the run … have I already asked you for a doctor?" D'Artagnan asked obviously shaken.

"A doctor is on his way, he should arrive any minute. Come d'Artagnan let's take this wagon and bring Athos home."

Tréville softly pressed d'Artagnan's knee then he gave orders to instruct the doctor to wait for them and to saddle his own horse in front of the wagon, while he fetched several blankets, which he put in the trunk.

Several minutes later d'Artagnan returned with Tréville on the wagon next to him on his horse to the place where he had left his friends behind. D'Artagnan wanted to rush, but on the small road the wagon needed longer than he liked it and he tried to stay calm.

 _Head over heart d'Artagnan. Don't forget to tame your emotions in a dangerous situation, try to think strategically … it can save your life and the lives of the people you have to serve and to protect._

D'Artagnan could hear Athos's soft voice explaining to him more than once that to be a good Musketeer he had to learn to control his feelings. Now was the time to let his head be first and not his heart.

How he had wished he could have stayed next to his fallen friend, comforting him, holding his hand and telling him to fight this, to survive, but he knew that Aramis and Porthos would be there for him.

 _I've forgotten to tell you to fight, Athos. I should have knelt down next to you and pressed your hand, but I was simply so shocked, to see you in this state of health._

 _Your pale face even paler than usual._

 _Sweat glistening on your forehead._

 _That horrible arrow in your leg_

 _and the red blood soaking through Aramis blue scarf._

 _Survive, Athos! Fight! You are strong. I need you. I don't want to lose you …_

The young Gascon remembered the first time he met Athos shortly after his father was murdered. At first he wanted to see this man, who was now his best friend and older brother, dead but in the end he had helped to save his life and to his own astonishment Athos had taken him under his wing. Thus he achieved the chance to become a King's Musketeer.

Tréville stayed silent next to d'Artagnan he could feel the anxiety of his young soldier. The words were still echoing in his head: _Aramis has sent me away … Athos is dying._

 _Please no, the young man must be wrong. Athos is strong. He will fight this, he will survive. Aramis is with him and Porthos. He's safe. I want to believe that Aramis has sent d'Artagnan away to spare him seeing Athos being wounded and ill and to fetch help as fast as possible … d'Artagnan adores and admires Athos so much._

Tréville was driven out of his thoughts as d'Artagnan shouted. They are over there. We've nearly reached them. Now the young Gascon couldn't calm the temperament of his horse and his own any longer and after making sure Tréville knew where he needed to go with the wagon and after the Captain commanded him "Go!" he galloped over to the tree, where he hoped he would find Athos still alive.

 **XXXXX**

 _How shall we do it the best?_

Aramis thought, while he put the small knife, and several needles into the boiling water. He then washed his hands ignoring the heat and dried them with a fresh fabric.

"Porthos, I think it would be best if you pull the arrow out. You are stronger than me and I have no idea how deep it is in his leg. Then I will put immediate pressure on the open wound with a fabric and press it down for several minutes and then I have to decide if I can stitch the wound or if I have to cauterize it with this knife. Damn!" He angrily wiped some sweat with the back of his hand from his forehead.

"What is it?" Porthos asked worriedly.

"Do you have some alcohol with you? We need to avoid any possible infection - not sure if the wound isn't infected already …" Aramis mumbled the rest of his sentence more to himself than to Porthos.

"No, I don't have, but maybe in Roger's saddlebag. Do you think Athos would ride without alcohol?" He tried to joke to ease the tension, but Aramis didn't react to it.

Porthos stood up and walked over to Roger who was waiting patiently next to his master. His ears erect and very alert, then he started to look through Athos's saddlebag.

"Here it is, I knew that Athos wouldn't leave without it." He went over to his unconscious friend. He handed Aramis the small flask then he sat down again and Porthos stroked over Athos's brown hair.

"Tell me how and when I should pull this stupid arrow out of his leg." Porthos told Aramis.

Then he positioned himself on his knees, next to Athos's left leg.

Aramis started to remove his scarf from Athos's knee. Next he put some of the alcohol on the wound around the arrow. Athos moaned, but he didn't wake up.

"As soon as you have pulled out the arrow, try to fix Athos shoulders with your hands. I am not sure, but the pain could wake him and then he will try to curl up due to the pain, but I need him flat, so that I can take care of his wound."

"Will do!" Porthos nodded. Then he searched Aramis brown eyes. "I am ready."

"Now!" Aramis shouted.

Porthos put his strong fingers of both his hands around the shaft of the arrow and pulled with all his strength. The arrow was dug deep in Athos leg, but with Porthos' strong move he didn't need to pull a second time. The bloody object landed on the grassy floor next to his leg, where Porthos had thrown it.

Aramis and Porthos both shuddered at the loud scream which escaped Athos' mouth. The swordsmen felt a sharp pain in his leg, burning and even intensified worse when Aramis poured more of his favourite cognac over the wound and then pressed hard with a fabric on the wound to stop the rush of new bleeding.

Confused Athos opened his eyes and tried -as Aramis had predicted it- to curl himself up in order to get rid of the unbearable pain in his leg. Porthos held him down in a firm grip.

"Easy, Athos, easy." Porthos soothed him.

"Wha …"

"We have pulled out the arrow and Aramis is just checking the hole in your leg."

Porthos explained, while still keeping him down with his strong arms.

"How rea ... ssh … uring …" Athos panted. "It hur …"

"I know Athos, but I need to clean the wound first, before I can stitch it." Aramis looked in Athos' half opened eyes. He could only see a small green shimmering. He tried to smile at him to comfort his brother.

Athos stretched his hand out and reached for Aramis' left. Aramis pressed it softly and he could feel a weak pressure on his fingers.

"Is … it … bad …?"

"Let me see. He carefully lifted the fabric, then he started to check the wound and sponged the spot with more alcohol. He heard Athos breathing irregularly and panting for breath, trying to ignore the pain which the alcohol caused on the fresh wound.

"Easy, easy, come breathe with me, in and out, in and out," he heard Porthos soothing words calming his wounded friend and he noticed that it helped.

"Is he out again?" Aramis asked, still busy with cleaning the wound that the arrow had left in the thigh of his patient.

"No, he…'s st...ill … here …" Athos barely audible said through his gritted teeth.

"You are lucky my friend." Aramis smiled, while pressing softly Athos' hand with his left.

"Why?"

"Because I can stitch this wound. The bleeding is not as bad as I'd first thought."

"Great … I'm … look … ing …" Athos panted.

"Spare your strength and breath! Stop talking." Porthos ordered, while he softly stroked with his thumb over Athos's cheeks and wiped away some tears that were running down Athos's face caused by the pain.

"The letter …" Athos suddenly started, while panting for air and trying to sit up.

"What? Porthos asked and pressed him gently down. "Stay there. Moving around is not good for you right now." He advised Athos.

"In my jacket … a letter … for the palace … Aramis you have to bring … the letter …"

"Calm! First we'll deal with your injury and then with the letter …" Aramis tried to lock eyes with his brother, but the irises were moving much too quickly back and fro.

"You have to … Mis!" Athos caught his breath then he coughed.

"I will, promise!" Aramis pressed his arm softly.

Athos closed his eyes for a short moment then he opened them again.

"Can I …"

"What?" Aramis asked looking again in Athos's face.

"I think he wants to have a sip of his cognac." Porthos smiled.

"Yes, you can have some sips. It will help you, because the stitching will hurt too."

"Just … do … it!" Athos ordered while he felt Porthos lifting his head and pressing the bottle to his lips. "Here, my friend, drink, but not too much."

Athos took three sips, gulped and then he closed his eyes again. Porthos softly laid Athos' head back in his lap, while stroking again gently over his hair and heard Athos breathing differently.

"I think he's out again." Porthos whispered.

"Thank God. It will help me to stitch the wound faster."

Aramis put another soaked fabric away then he took a needle and thread and started as fast as he could to sew the wound. When he was finished he wiped the rest of the alcohol over the stitched wound, after that he put some green leaves which he'd first chewed on, to the stitched wound and bandaged Athos's leg with a clean part of his scarf.

"Finished." He looked reassuringly at Porthos.

Then he put his left hand on Athos's chest to reassure himself that his brothers heart was still beating. He felt a more regular heartbeat under his palm and sighed out loud. Athos' breathing had evened out too and Aramis was sure that he was now sleeping.

"What?" Porthos asked rising an eyebrow.

"We can now tuck him completely in the blanket and keep him warm while we are waiting for the wagon. A doctor has to look at his leg later, but I think he will make it. We simply have to pray that the wound doesn't get infected." Aramis sighed.

The medic stood up and left Athos and Porthos to go and clean his hands, which had started to tremble heavily.

Porthos glanced concerned in his direction. Then he lifted the blanket which was only covering Athos's upper body and spread it over his whole body.

"Sleep, me friend. You will be better in no time." He whispered softly in Athos's ear. Then he turned his head to Aramis. "What was that with this letter."

"I don't know." Aramis shrugged.

"Perhaps he was asked to bring another letter back to the palace. Wait, I'll check his jacket."

Porthos searched Athos' jacket for a letter, a note, a sheet of paper, but he couldn't find any.

"There's nothing here Aramis."

"Perhaps he put the letter into Roger's saddlebag and his mind was too confused to remember it clearly." Aramis mused. "Wait I'll have a look."

Aramis went over to Roger who was still agitated because his master was still lying on the ground.

"Easy my boy!"

Aramis patted the horse's neck then he opened the saddlebag and checked for a letter, but nothing. Confused he returned to Porthos, who was holding Athos in his arms to keep him warm.

"No letter?" Porthos asked.

"No, no letter, but maybe Athos confused the letter with the one he had to bring to _Chateau Fontainebleau_ this morning.

"Do you think he never got there and those men were behind him planning to take this message which the Queen wrote to her friend."

"I don't know Porthos, but I think as soon as d'Artagnan has returned with the wagon and we have lifted Athos onto the truck it would be good if you and d'Artagnan could search the area. Maybe Athos lost the letter as he dismounted Roger. Are you sure it's not in his jacket? He usually puts important information in his clothes and not in his saddlebag."

"Aramis, you can have a second look but I found nothing." Porthos told him.

After Aramis had searched Athos' jacket a second time without finding anything he angrily gave up.

"He must have lost it, don't tell him that it's not there, when he wakes. It seems to be an important letter and it will upset him, when he finds out that it is missing." Aramis told Porthos.

The streetfighter nodded eagerly. Both men stayed silent thinking about the letter that Athos had probably lost.

 _If he finds out about that, he will only blame himself. I really hope that you mixed the message from this morning up with this letter. But why do you want me to explicitly check and bring this letter to the palace._ _What is so important about it._ Aramis wondered.

 _ **To be continued ...**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Here is part 2 of the d'Artagnan plot._**

 ** _Again a massive thank you to Beth for proofing the D'Artagnan plot._**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading and following this story._**

 ** _I will try to update part 3 on Tuesday._**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **D'Artagnan - Part 2**

The first thing d'Artagnan noticed was Athos lying in Porthos' lap. The latter was resting with his back against the trunk of the tree. They had moved Athos under the shade of the green leaves in order to protect him from the still burning sun. Protectively Porthos' hands encircled Athos' upper body, his chin was resting on Athos' thick hair. The way Porthos was holding him in this soft embrace was evidence enough for Porthos' love for his brother. Right now he wanted to protect him from everything bad and evil and doesn't want to let him go.

D'Artagnan stopped and looked over to Athos sleeping form, while he dismounted from his horse. The sight reminded d'Artagnan of the event that had taken place several months ago. Following his instincts and really worrying about his friend's odd behaviour in Pinon he had searched for him, after Aramis, Porthos and he had reached Paris.

 _"_ _It's not like him to not come with us. Porthos, you were hurt … something is wrong. We … I need to search him." D'Artagnan told his two brothers._

 _"_ _Give him some time, d'Artagnan." Aramis had told him._

 _"_ _He will have a heavy hangover and he wouldn't like you to see him in this state." Porthos had added with his gruff voice. "He's told us to go ahead. So we should obey his order and wishes."_

But d'Artagnan had felt that something was very wrong …

In the end he had found Athos' huge house in flames. In pure horror he had to decide what to do. Running into a burning house not knowing if Athos was even in it? For a short moment he had paused, but then he had seen the beautiful black stallion of his mentor. The intelligent animal's dark eyes had pleaded him to help.

Back then it was Roger who was waiting at a safe distance, knowing very well that the flames were too dangerous inside Athos' manor. The horse was so agitated and neighing loudly that d'Artagnan was sure that his mentor was inside the flames and in immediate danger.

After he'd found him in the living room, red and yellow flames nearing his body in danger and out cold, he had needed all his strength to carry his unconscious friend out of the burning house, wondering what had happened and doubting that Athos had started the fire by himself. Remembering this horrible night he still smelt the smoke in his nose, the burnt wood, the smell of the burnt leather clothes, while staring at Athos' unresponsive form in front of him.

D'Artagnan tried to get rid of these bad memories but he couldn't. For a short moment he closed his eyes and other pictures from that night appeared in front of his eyes.

He had brought Athos several feet away from the burning estate. Sitting in the wet grass, covered by the night dew, his mentor had needed some time to come back to his senses. D'Artagnan had tried to clean his dusty and hot face with some water from his flask.

Athos had been in a horrible state: still drunk, his ears had trouble hearing anything and the smoke had burned his lungs - he was gasping for breath for several minutes - before he started to speak.

Back then Athos had already looked horribly pale. D'Artagnan would never forget his eyes encircled by red spots and filled with unshed tears, but at least he could talk to him.

Now d'Artagnan thought he looked even paler and it scared him … it scared him like the day he had witnessed his father dying in his arms and he had felt so helpless and alone.

 _Is he still alive? My God Athos … please ..._

For a short moment d'Artagnan wasn't sure if Athos was still alive, but the soft rising and falling of his brother's chest he observed for several seconds told him that he was still hanging in there. Porthos looked up to d'Artagnan and smiled softly at him.

 _Thank God … why can't you open your eyes … will you survive?_ D'Artagnan thought, fighting now with all his own emotions.

"How is he?" D'Artagnan asked anxiously still not sure if Athos would survive.

"Much better." Aramis moved next to him and laid a hand on his back feeling d'Artagnan's nervousness. "We have managed to remove the arrow and I could stitch the wound. He's sleeping for now, but a doctor will still need to check him over." He smiled. "Where is the wagon?"

"The Captain is bringing it … he told me to go ahead." D'Artagnan explained his eyes still fixed on his wounded friend.

 _My God you look horrible Athos … I … I should have said something this morning. It was so obvious that you didn't want to have Aramis with you … not sure what's wrong between both of you … but I could have easily traded my palace guard shift with him …_

 _Why haven't I … I wish I can help you somehow … please don't die … I don't want to lose you … I need you ..._

For a moment d'Artagnan was unsure what to do, he paused, observing the pale face and the closed reddish eyes of his mentor, then he stepped next to Porthos, went on his knees and squeezed Athos' shoulder.

"You will pull through this, Athos, I know you are strong." He whispered in his mentor's ear searching the physical contact with his friend.

 _You survived in Pinon as your house burnt and you will survive again … I know it._

No reaction from Athos but he felt Aramis hand resting now on his shoulder.

 _I am glad that Aramis could treat your wound … I wish I could have helped, stayed, let you know that you are not alone, that I've not left you alone ..._

"Of course d'Artagnan."

Aramis squeezed his shoulder, d'Artagnan turned his head from Athos back to Aramis. Aramis smiling face felt so good but the young Gascon knew that the medic forced himself to smile. When d'Artagnan felt his eyes welling up again, he angrily wiped the wetness with the back of his right hand and stood up. To avoid eye contact with his brothers he looked on the green grass. When blinking his eyes he noticed a dark object lying on the ground and went over to it.

 _What's that … it looks … it is the arrow … the arrow they have removed from Athos' thigh ..._

He bent and lifted the arrow which had entered Athos' knee. The traces of his friend's blood were still visible on the wooden stick, which was well chopped and formed. He shuddered and didn't want to imagine how much this object must have hurt his best friend.

 _This is a well formed and shaped weapon. Nothing cheap poachers would use for hunting. Whoever formed this arrow prepared it to fight with against people. This wasn't a hunting accident that went wrong. Those men even if they looked like poachers were waiting for you and wanted to kill you, Athos. It was probably a trap._

Confused d'Artagnan looked to his brothers.

"Has Athos told you anything why those men were after him?" He curiously asked.

"No." Porthos answered. "He hadn't had the strength to tell us."

"I think they attacked him deliberately." Aramis stepped next to him and took the arrow away from d'Artagnan and scanned it now with his own eyes. "You think the same, don't you?" He looked in d'Artagnan's brown eyes, which expressed not only a worrying, but an angry look as well.

"This weapon doesn't look like an arrow poachers would use. I think they waited for him. But why?" D'Artagnan considered loud.

"The letter." Porthos mumbled.

"Which letter?" D'Artagnan asked irritated.

"Athos told me that he has received a letter to bring it back to the palace and he asked me to do it for him instead, but we couldn't find it anywhere. Not in his jacket where he usually puts those messages nor in the saddlebag of Roger." Aramis said grimly.

"Have you checked his boots? If it was a letter of great importance he could have put it in one of them? He sometimes hides significant messages there." D'Artagnan asked aloud.

"Not yet, you are brilliant. Why didn't we think of that?" Aramis mumbled.

"Because you were busy taking care of his wounds." D'Artagnan answered quietly.

Aramis moved over to Athos' feet. As gently as possible he removed first the left then the right boot from his friend's feet. Athos stayed quiet and didn't move at all.

"Nothing!" He mumbled angrily. "And I can't feel any piece of paper in his socks or in the pockets of his trousers."

"Wait." D'Artagnan crouched next to him. Then he lifted both of Athos' boots and checked the heels. "You are right, there is nothing. Strange ..."

Aramis didn't look up to d'Artagnan, but busied himself with putting Athos' boots back on again when the young man put them down.

"Do you think they were after him to take the letter?" D'Artagnan asked.

"I don't know, d'Artagnan, but I think it is best, when Porthos and you search for it."

"But we need to bring Athos back." The young man protested. Aramis noticed that d'Artagnan became a little angry. Anxiously the young man again watched his sick friend.

Slowly Aramis approached him and laid his right hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder.

"I think I can manage with Captain Tréville. If this letter was written to the King we need to find it." Aramis answered not allowing another word of protest by staring into his young friend's eyes. Then he went over to his horse and put the arrow in his own saddle bag.

D'Artagnan's eyes wandered back to Athos.

He knew that Aramis was right, but he felt the need to protect his best friend. His mind was racing. He had so many questions, so many feelings were falling down on him like a crashing wave. He wanted to help and he felt the need to find the people who were behind the attack against his brother.

"Does he know that the letter is missing?" D'Artagnan asked after a long pause in silence.

"No, we haven't told him yet and I think it's best when he doesn't know for now." Porthos softly answered. Feeling with his right hand Athos' forehead and then looked over to Aramis. "He's pretty hot. I think he has a fever."

"It's normal his body is fighting the wound." Aramis answered and came back to them. He wanted to check for himself on their patient.

At this moment they could hear the wheels of the rumbling wagon and several seconds later Tréville was jumping down from it and ran over to them.

"Athos?" He asked concerned as he reached his men.

"Better, but we need to bring him back, Captain. We could remove the arrow and stitch the wound but he has developed a fever." Aramis quietly told his Captain.

Tréville nodded while he approached Athos and knelt down next to his sleeping officer. He softly pressed Athos's left hand which lurked from under the blanket Porthos had wrapped him in and waited for a reaction, but Athos was still deeply asleep.

"Has he woken at all?" Tréville asked.

"Twice, but I am glad that he passed out again, before I could stitch him." Aramis quietly explained. "I think we need to move him. I want a doctor to have a closer look at his wound and he needs some hot broth and lot's of water. He's lost quite an amount of blood."

"The doctor will wait for him at the garrison. I've sent for the new doctor. I think his name is Lemay." Tréville assured Aramis. Then he continued: "I am sorry, I can't bring the wagon any nearer than this." Tréville sighed and pointed with his finger to his horse and the wagon. "The road is really bumpy. It won't be an easy drive for him."

"What about someone is sitting with him just like Porthos now?" D'Artagnan asked. "This way we can shield his body a little from all the bumps, not much, but it might be more comfortable than only having blankets on the wood." He added.

"That's an excellent idea." Pothos said. "I have him already in my arms and can easily lift his upper body, but someone else needs to help me with his legs." He explained furthermore.

"D'Artagnan take his right side and I will try to stabilise his left injured leg." Aramis advised. "When we reach the wagon I will climb into it first and then you will lay him in my arms. This way I can sit with him and check for him during our drive." Aramis continued.

"I will gather all the blankets we have and try to make it as comfortable as possible for him." Tréville informed them. "And then I will help to stabalise his leg, Aramis."

After they had prepared the wagon and Treville had made sure that his horse would stay calm, they began their little procession by carrying Athos over to it. Aramis settled his back against the wooden end planks so that he could hold his brother in his arms, Athos' head was now resting in his lap and Aramis tenderly stroked his hair. Tréville helped him to cover his Lieutenant in several blankets to make him as comfortable as possible then he hurried back on his wagon and gave his horse and the two others a sign to bring their precious cargo safely back to the garrison. He had hoped that Athos' would have woken again, but his officer's eyes had stayed closed.

 _Perhaps it's better for him to sleep during this bumpy drive._

Tréville looked astonished at Porthos and d'Artagnan as they didn't show any signs of mounting their horses.

"One of the bandits could escape." Porthos told him. "Permission to go, find and arrest him."

"Shall I send more men?"

"I think we both will manage." D'Artagnan hurried to explain. "The man was wounded by a bullet wound from Porthos' pistol in his shoulder. The other two men are dead."

"Alright. Catch this man and bring him straight to the garrison I want to question him. Anything else?" He raised his eyebrow. He could feel that there was something else going on that his men didn't want to say to him.

At that moment he heard Athos moaning loudly and turned all his attention to his injured officer.

"Go, hurry, we will see you at the garrison and stay safe." He ordered while hurrying next to Athos' side.

Porthos and d'Artagnan both paused for a moment. Aramis could see them hesitating feeling the need to comfort Athos.

"Go, we will manage." Aramis told with his eyes on both of his brothers.

Porthos nodded, then he laid his hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder and pushed him towards his horse.

"Let's move. We need to hurry. Right now we don't want to make Athos worry, so it's better that we don't disturb him." He softly murmured in d'Artagnan's ear. With a last concerned glance in the direction of Athos both men moved.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thank you so much for all your reviews.**_

 _ **Without Beth this part would be horrible to read so I thank her again for doing the very important beta job xx**_

 _ **Where is the letter? And which important message should Athos bring back to the palace?**_

 _ **Will you find out more about it in this chapter?**_

 _ **This is my last part focussing on d'Artagnan. Next week we will have a focus on Tréville.**_

 _ **Enjoy and if you like leave me a comment/review. Thank you! xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Part 4.3 - D'Artagnan**

"What are you doing?" D'Artagnan asked Porthos.

He somehow had expected that Porthos would start to hunt the wounded man down, but Porthos stopped at the two dead bandits and dismounted his horse.

"We have no idea where they came from, perhaps if we search their clothes," Porthos pointed at the two dead corpse, "... we may find some hints that can lead us to the third man."

While Porthos started to search the clothes of the man he had killed with his sword, d'Artagnan searched the clothes of the other man who had tried to reach Athos. In the distance they could hear the wagon and Tréville shouting to his horse to take them back to the garrison.

 _I wish I could go with them, but I am needed here. We must find out who did this to Athos._

"Here there's nothing but some coins." D'Artagnan told Porthos. Then he looked around and started to walk through the high green grass, his eyes directed on the ground.

"Where are you going?" Porthos asked, while he was still busy searching the bandit's jacket.

"Do you see that?"

"What?"

"From here to the forest over there," d'Artagnan pointed with his arm to his left, "the grass is stamped down. Those men who attacked Athos rode over there."

D'Artagnan continued and Porthos followed his outstretched hand with his eyes.

"And the traces our horses have left are coming from this direction." D'Artagnan explained. "So this must be the way Roger and Athos must have taken, perhaps Athos has lost the letter when he was dismounted from Roger." He mused aloud.

He walked several steps further then suddenly he knelt down in the grass.

"Have you found something?" Porthos asked.

The streetfighter let his young brother take the lead, d'Artagnan was a good observer. He had always been and Porthos valued his skills. As a farmer's son d'Artagnan knew more about the country life than he himself. He grew up in the city, while d'Artagnan had lived and worked most of his life on a farm. Reading traces in high grass was easier for the young Gascon. Porthos followed with his intelligent eyes the explanations of d'Artagnan.

"Athos must have dismounted here. There is some blood on the grass."

D'Artagnan tried to ignore that it must belong to his mentor, but it didn't work. So he squeezed his eyes for a moment shut and breathed in deeply. He felt a hand on his back.

"He will be fine again, don't worry. Athos is a fighter. Always has been … always will be."

Porthos tried to comfort his younger brother, but he wasn't sure if he needed to say these words to himself right now. He could still feel Athos' warm breath on his hands that he had felt when he had hold him in his strong arms.

"I know!" D'Artagnan whispered. "It's just that I have never seen him so pale before."

"Aramis would tell us now that this can come from the blood loss and a possible shock." He squeezed d'Artagnan's arm gently."

"There is no letter, but do you see those footprints." D'Artagnan pointed to other traces in the grass."

"Yes, I can see them."

"I doubt that they belong to Athos. Moreover those traces over here. He tried to reach the tree where you found him by crawling over the ground. I doubt that he could walk with the arrow in his leg." D'Artagnan explained further.

Porthos nodded agreeingly.

"But who do those tracks belong to over here then? Porthos bent down to search the place a little longer.

"Honestly, I don't know." D'Artagnan said.

Both Musketeers scanned their surroundings.

"Whoever was here came by foot and not by horse. Do you see those footprints." Porthos showed the young Gascon."

"Yes. Wait. I think I know who was here. There is another small blood trail, here."

The young man shouted excitedly. It must be from the man you wounded. I had lost him out of sight. He had hidden himself over there in the high grass and when we were busy with checking on Athos he came here and then left this way back into the forest. He can't be far. All of their horses baulked as we started our attack and fled into the woods." D'Artagnan summarized his inquiry.

"But what was he doing here." Porthos wondered.

"Perhaps the same we're doing, looking for this letter Athos was talking about and I think he found it. This bastard was damn lucky."

"So as Athos hadn't any strength left he dismounted from his horse, landed on the floor and while crawling over the dry earth trying to reach the shadow and some protection under this tree over there the letter must have fallen out of his jacket." Porthos assumed.

"Probably and now this man has the important message. We need to catch him, he can't be far. Come Porthos." D'Artagnan wanted to run back to Zad.

"Woh, hold on, you think he is walking back from where he came?" Porthos stopped his excited friend.

"Probably. I think his comrades are dead, he is wounded. He will try to go where he is from and knows that he can get help. Have you found anything in the other dead man's clothes or pockets?" D'Artagnan wanted to know.

"No, nothing, but their weapons are of a high quality and one of them must have shot this arrow at Athos. Their pistols and swords looked expensive. I doubt that they are usual bandits or poachers."

"You think they waited for Athos in the forest? That it was an assault on him, on his life?" The young man looked shocked.

"Maybe not on him as a private person but maybe they witnessed that he was delivering this letter to the King."

"This message must be of great importance then." D'Artagnan shook his head. "He should have never gone on his own. Why did he do it? He preaches at me every single time to not go on a mission on my own when I am in a Musketeer's uniform."

"I don't know d'Artagnan. He can be stubborn sometimes. Let's move." Porthos tried to ignore d'Artagnan's question.

The young man wasn't stupid. He must have noticed the same tension between their brothers. Of course Porthos wanted to know d'Artagnan's thoughts, but for now finding this escaped bandit or whoever he was, was more important.

D'Artagnan and Porthos started to follow the small blood trace which the wounded man had left behind. They didn't need long, about fifteen minutes later they found him dead, face down on a crossroad in the middle of a clearing. A horse rested nearby, but it wasn't wearing any saddle.

When Porthos bent down over the man he had wounded earlier with his pistol and turned the man around he gasped in horror. His throat had been cut by a knife. The man had been killed by someone else. D'Artagnan who had observed Porthos reaction turned around.

"This can't be true. He was murdered." Porthos murmured angrily, while he searched the man's clothes. Nothing. No letter. He can't have been dead for long he's still warm." He groaned.

D'Artagnan who was busy with scanning the whole area turned back to Porthos.

 _Someone is watching us. Our horses are much too agitated and it isn't because of the dead man in front of us. They smell the presence of someone else. Probably hiding in the woods. But why? Is it only one person? Or are there more people watching us._

"I don't like that. We should take this horse and the dead body with us, I feel that we are being watched." D'Artagnan told Porthos in a strict tone.

Porthos drew his pistol and looked around, but it was impossible to see anything. The forest was too dark now that the dusk was settling in it was no use to search it.

D'Artagnan felt watched he couldn't say why or from where, but his instincts told him, that the person who had killed this man, who was lying in front of him with his throat cut, was still there somewhere in the woods, observing them.

 _This is getting stranger and stranger each minute. Athos in what have you got yourself roped into? What message did you have to deliver back to the palace? And who is observing us from the darkness of the woods? I wish we could check, but Porthos is right … we need to return and report the Captain. Whoever is behind this attack against you and ordered it Athos. I promise I will bring him to justice._

The young Gascon vowed then he followed Porthos.

 **XXXXX**

After d'Artagnan and Porthos had finally left with the dead body, a dark figure in the forest clad in a black coat and wearing a brownish hood, stepped outside onto the clearing. With its pale eyes the figure stared behind them, then it started searching the saddlebag of the horse, which it had taken away. After several minutes the figure found what it was looking for. It put the saddle down, then it turned around and headed back to its own horse, which was hidden several feet away from where the figure had observed the two Musketeers hoping that it would not be discovered.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Here comes the story arch about Tréville (I had planned 4 parts but I am now in the middle of part 6 ... )_**

 ** _My special thanks go out to Beth & Helen for proofreading. All remaining mistakes are mine._**

 ** _Enjoy and tell me what you think about it! xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Tréville - Part 1**

 _Where am I? Ahhh … my leg, my whole body hurts … I feel so hot … my head … why is everything so loud … it feels like it's going to burst. Stop this shouting it kills me …_

 _Why am I lying … wait … a hand … there's a hand on my forehead and the uncomfortable ground I am lying on is not … a mattress … but …_

 _Mhhhh … darn I should stop moving …_

Athos felt horrible. The loud voices of his brothers were aggravating the headache he had developed. His mind was too bewildered to really register what was going on around him. He knew that Aramis was behind him, protecting his upper body with his own, but he had no clue why and where he was lying. One moment he felt hot and he tried to free himself out of several blankets they had tucked him in, but strong arms, behind his upper body, were stopping him in a gentle grip on his wrists. The next moment he felt so cold, he shivered and the tremors running through his whole body and reaching his injured leg had him nearly screaming out loud and doubling over.

"Wh …" He slurred, while he slowly opened his eyes, only to squeeze them tight shut again due to the fact that the intense evening sun was too bright for them.

"Shhh … don't try to move. We're taking you home." Aramis whispered in his ear.

His left hand had encircled Athos' hip in a tight, but gentle grip, while his right hand was resting on Athos' forehead checking his temperature. Now he let it go and fetched a bottle with water.

"Here drink, take some sips, your body needs it …"

Aramis ordered and Athos followed Aramis instructions, leaning his head deeper onto Aramis' chest and listening to his friend's heartbeat, which was now drumming in his ears. He felt the bottle being pressed to his lips, then Aramis helped him to gently elevate his head and he managed to drink some gulps, before he turned his weary head away.

He heard his friend sighing and he knew what his dark brown eyes told him without the need to even open his mouth:

 _"_ _You never do things easily, do you, Athos?"_ Aramis thought.

And Athos answered in silence with rolling his eyes.

 _"_ _Simply bad luck this time. I knew you would come, Aramis … I knew you would find me. Hey don't turn your head away … why do your eyes look so sad … I … I wish I could talk to you, but I feel so tired … my strength is all gone …"_ Athos thought, then he closed his eyes again.

 _I don't like your hot skin, Athos. I think you have already developed a high fever. No wonder your eyes are shimmering, your pupils are dilated and your sight is unfocused._

Aramis stroked again with his right hand over Athos' forehead and wiped away some brownish strands, which were covered in sweat.

Aramis could see Athos flinching as Tréville stepped next to the wagon and looked at his injured officer. Even if their Captain spoke in a normal voice the sounds hurt his ears. Sluggishly he opened and squeezed his eyes shut, several times.

"It's good to see you awake, Athos."

Tréville said, smiling at him and feeling relieved that his officer was coherent. He noticed with his pale blue eyes that Athos was reacting to his loud voice and he told himself to speak quietly.

"We will bring you back to the garrison."

Tréville softly squeezed Athos' left hand and his Lieutenant opened his eyes again and turned his head slowly in Tréville's direction. He felt dizzy the very moment he moved it.

"Captain … I'm … sor …"

He slurred while searching Tréville's eyes with his green-bluish eyes which were glistening from the fever

"Shh … don't be. Everything is alright."

Tréville heard himself saying this while his mind screamed that _nothing was alright._ His Lieutenant had nearly been killed - and it still wasn't certain, if he would survive -, because he had sent him away on his own. A rule he had changed several years ago … _never go on a mission alone_ …

A rule he had learned the hard way and had nearly paid with his own life … if it hadn't been for one young man saving his life and telling him that he had to change the one-man-missions.

So why had he sent Athos alone and why hadn't his officer protested?

"No …" Athos tried to protest. "I've failed … you." He muttered then his eyes started to droop and the tired soldier had fallen asleep again.

"It's the blood loss. It's making him tired, Captain."

Aramis softly explained, when he noticed Tréville's concerned eyes still resting on Athos' sleeping form, waiting to hear his soft breathing. Aramis knew his Captain well enough to read his pale face now. When it came to Athos, Tréville always had a weak spot, of course he cared for all of his men, but Athos was the one man who he listened to and who could criticise him without fearing any consequences. He valued his opinion and his sharp, intelligent and strategical thinking mind.

Aramis noticed that the deep wrinkles on Tréville's forehead which made his Captain look ten years older. The way he drew his hand more than once over his face were signs enough for him that his commanding officer blamed himself for having sent Athos away on his own. He sympathized with his Captain because he felt the very same, but now was not the time to dwell in self pity they had to bring Athos to safety.

"We have prepared him for the ride back as best as possible … I doubt that he will sleep for long, the wagon drive will be more than uncomfortable. We need to go Captain." Aramis urged his commanding officer, who appeared to be in another world.

 _Can it be … is it already five years ago … or six … I am not sure … when I met you the first time? It feels like a lifetime … you have changed my … our lives so much … in a positive way ... and you are not aware of it ..._

"Captain?" Aramis tried it again and Tréville looked up into his medic's face.

"Right, we need to go. Keep him safe, Aramis, he has to pull through this.

Tréville made several steps further in the direction of Athos, then he gently stroked over Athos' thick hair and whispered in his right ear:

"You can never fail me, my son. Hang in there." He gulped hard, understanding why their young Gascon had cried earlier.

Then Tréville hurried to climb on the wagon and gave the horses orders to pull their precious cargo back home.

 **XXXXX**

Aramis felt the first bumps hitting his own back and he tried to cover and protect Athos as best as he could. It didn't take Athos very long to start moaning in his sleep. The uncomfortable wooden wagon hurt his leg even more and each bump sent a jolt through his body.

Tréville tried his best to drive the wagon on the narrow road, but the path was badly constructed and they had to cross a very large hole, which he couldn't avoid. Athos' loud scream full of agony hung in his ears.

He heard Aramis' soft voice, mumbling something to his brother he couldn't understand and Athos' barely audible voice, pleading him to make it stop, to pause or even to let him ride on his horse, so that the pain would finally stop.

New beads of sweat were glistening on his face and finding their way down into his beard mixed with tears of pain. Aramis wiped them away tenderly with his thumbs. Athos was now wide awake. Inwardly Aramis hoped that Athos would pass out soon, though his stubborn friend wouldn't do him this favour.

Suddenly Athos grabbed his left wrist and pressed it tight.

"The … letter … Aramis … you've … to ..."

"Later." Aramis told him. "It can wait, I am sure."

"No, go Aramis … take your horse … go …" He pleaded to his friend with a suffocating voice.

"You are far more important than a note my friend." Aramis stroked over his hair. "Now, that I have found you, I won't leave you."

He said in a firm tone, not sure if Athos was coherent enough to understand him. The latter had squeezed his eyes shut again, when the wagon hit another bump on the road.

"Tréville … is … with me … he'll bring … back ..." Athos insisted, catching for breath.

"Why do you want me to leave you?" Aramis asked confused.

 _Is he still upset with me … of course he is … if I had come along … he wouldn't have been wounded … we would have easily … You don't know that Aramis … even if you had been with him …_ The medic thought.

Aramis angrily blinked his eyes. Athos didn't give him an answer but turned his head away, trying to escape the medic's soft embrace.

"Athos, I'm sorry." Aramis tried, but no reaction from Athos.

At first he thought that Athos was upset with him, but then he realized that the swordsman had simply passed out again. The pain was too much for his weakened body.

"How much longer will it take to get back." Aramis shouted to Tréville. "I really think a doctor has to check on his wound. I fear it is infected."

Tréville turned his head around to his two soldiers. He looked in Aramis' shocked face and he wasn't sure what had befallen his medic. However something was troubling him.

"I estimate about a quarter of an hour. Riding on the horse would be faster, but …"

"No, not the horse … he has to remain here. Thank you Captain." Aramis answered exhausted praying that the ordeal for his injured brother would soon be over.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Thank you for reading and leaving a review._**

 ** _3 Beth & Helen 3 _**

**_Here is the next installment._**

 ** _Enjoy! xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Tréville – Part 2**

 _Hang in there, Athos … we have nearly reached the garrison. I hope and pray that the doctor has arrived by now … my God you look so pale. I wish I could take the pain away from you, my son. I wish I had prevented that …_ Tréville thought while throwing from time to time a glance over his shoulder at Athos, his upper body lying on Aramis.

The soft moaning had turned from time to time into loud screams his officer tried to suppress. He heard Aramis chiding Athos about it, that he should stop being brave and if he had to scream he should do it. But there was no answer from Athos and Tréville supposed that Athos was in a semi-conscious state, more asleep and confused than really awake.

 _You told me … you told me all those years back that it wasn't a wise decision to wear the pauldron and the blue cape that made me recognisable to everyone in France that I was a Musketeer … because of you I changed this …_

Tréville thought back to the day when he had met Athos for the first time ...

 **XXXXX**

It had been a hot day at the beginning of the summer. He had been on a mission for young King Louis XIII. Just like Athos he'd had to deliver a message to a nobleman, who lived in a chateau three days away from Paris. The Duke had read the missive of the King, then he had asked him to wait and a little later he had given him a letter, which he should take personally to the King. Telling him that it was important that this letter should not reach strangers hands and that if he was attacked that he should destroy it. He had to grin as the thought crossed his mind that the Duke had ordered him to eat it in such a case.

On his way back, about one hour away from the palace, he finally had to let his horse rest. It was around noon and he decided to eat a small meal, a warm stew and drink some ale, to strengthen himself for the rest of his journey. He wore his blue cape and the typical regalia that made him identifiable as a Musketeer even in the dim light of the shabby tavern. Several men had gathered around a table, obviously drunk and busy with a card game. In the back of the room was a young man sitting before a bottle of wine. Long hair, unkempt and he didn't want him to come too near because he could smell the bad odour coming from his filthy clothes.

The newcomer was summoned by the skeptical glance of the tavern's owner.

"What brings a Musketeer to my fancy place, eh? Have I done anything wrong … 've I paid … too few taxes for our beloved King." He laughed hysterically.

The man was breathing after bad alcohol and Tréville tried to ignore the fact that the man only had three teeth left which made him lisp. A small smirk passed over Tréville's face, which vanished at once as he asked for some food.

"My horse needs to rest and I am looking for a decent meal and some ale and then I am on my way."

His icy blue eyes warned the man in front of him to not start to argue with him.

"You'd better hurry then …" The old man grumbled. "We don't like those watchdogs of the King, here … you and your comrades and the Red Guards only bring trouble to my place …"

He grumbled angrily, then he loudly thudded a small bowl of stew in front of the Captain of the Musketeers as he put it down.

Tréville sighed inwardly. He knew that the Red Guards could be complicated, but his men weren't like them. At least he hoped that and he tried to ignore that they were dueling themselves from time to time. He felt a headache coming on and he gulped some ale to get rid of it. The taste of it was stale.

He knew it wouldn't make any sense to explain this to the old man, who obviously was suffering under the high taxes the King had raised again last month to finance another of his projects …

The men next to his table glared at him and out of the corner of his eye he could see the young man. He had torn his grey hat, which he was wearing over his forehead, so only his eye slits were visible. Tréville wasn't sure what was wrong with the young man, he was probably simply too drunk, he felt sorry for the man it was still too early to sit in a tavern and drink.

 _You should work somewhere instead of spending your time alone in this filthy establishment._ Tréville thought by himself.

He didn't expect any possible threat from him, but the men at the next table started to throw more and more observing glances over to him and soon he regretted his idea to stop here.

He could hear the men whispering, checking for their weapons. The Captain hurried to eat his stew, which tasted spoiled. After some more spoons he gave up, drowned the cup with ale, threw some coins on the table and hurried himself to leave. When he reached the door of the shabby tavern he paused as he felt a sharp item in his back.

"Not so fast Musketeer scum."

A drunken man shouted at him, as he slowly turned his head around. He didn't dare to move his whole body, because the sharp knife in his back could have easily hurt him severely.

Two other men now stood up from their table too. Dangerously they started to encircle him, insulting him and asking for his money. He had little with him, only the important letter. He tried to fight them but the mob of now five men including the owner of the tavern were beating him up hard and he ended up on the dirty floor smelling of spilled alcohol and vomit.

He could feel boots hitting his ribs and he had only his arms to protect his upper body as the kicks continued. Tréville had no time to reach for his pistol or his sword and for a moment he wondered if they had put something in the ale which was why he felt slightly dizzy.

Moaning out loud, feeling blood running down in his mouth from a cut on his lip he already thought he wouldn't survive this, but suddenly a loud shout and an icy voice made the men stop torturing him further.

"Enough!" The young man shouted angrily and Tréville could hear that the man wasn't sober, but that didn't stop him to help.

The young man had risen from his stool in the farthest corner, drawing his sword which now threatened to slit the throat of the tavern's owner. Surprised that one single man would dare to attack them the mob held and stopped kicking Tréville with their boots.

"Leave him alone." The drunk slurred.

At first the men had giggled, but as they tried to fight him, he sent two men down to the ground with two swipes of his sword, wounded their hands and arms they let their weapons drop and crawled away, hiding behind a table.

"Anybody else?" The man had asked dangerously.

The pause gave Tréville the chance to draw his pistol which he now pointed at the man who had attacked him with a knife earlier.

Confused the men retreated.

Tréville suddenly felt a hand reaching for his left hand and pulling him up on his feet. The young drunk man swayed a little, but he didn't falter.

"Let's get out of here." He ordered in a noble voice, which was a little slurred, Tréville the Captain of the Musketeers, was grateful for the stranger's support.

"Don't dare to follow us or you will pay it with your life!" The man then shouted with a dangerous glare at the other drunk men and followed Tréville to his horse.

Outside he turned to Tréville.

"It's better you take your horse and leave. I doubt that they will wait very long. Can you ride?"

He asked Tréville, observing the Musketeer's bloody face while squeezing his green red rimmed eyes shut. The bright sun obviously hurt them.

Tréville checked his whole body. He was relieved to find that nothing was broken but he assumed that two or three of his ribs were bruised.

"I will manage, thanks to you."

Tréville mumbled and observed the young man, who was in his early twenties. Even in his drunken state he had something noble about him. His voice didn't sound like that of a normal peasant or poor village worker. His clothes, even if they were filthy and dirty, looked expensive and the sword he was still holding in his right hand was a true beauty, definitely worth a fortune and the owner knew how to use it.

 _My God boy … what brought you to drink yourself to death in this shabby tavern?_ Tréville thought.

"What will you do now?" He asked the young man. "You can't stay here."

The man only shrugged his shoulders. He thought for a moment and Tréville expected that he wouldn't get an answer, but then the young man softly said.

"I don't know …"

He sighed and rested his body on a hay bale next to the stable where Tréville's horse was waiting.

"You can't go back in there boy, they will kill you!"

Tréville made eye contact with the young lad. The latter avoided his stare and looked down on the floor.

"I guess … I'll walk to the next … village then."

He slurred and got ready to walk away, but he stumbled over his own feet. Tréville bolted, made several steps towards him and caught the young man's shoulder.

"Do you know a place where you can go?"

"Not anymore …"

The man slurred, obviously irritated by Tréville's firm grip on him that prevented him from landing in the dust of the small street.

"Why did you help me?" Tréville asked suddenly.

"Because you are a Musketeer." The man answered bluntly. "You serve for the King. When I was little …" The man paused and didn't speak further.

"What?" Tréville asked.

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters now … leave me alone, please."

He freed himself from Tréville's grip and stumbled forwards.

"I won't do this, my son." Tréville protested. "You just saved my life. Besides you seem to be a good swordsman and I can use your skills." He smiled.

In a short moment he had made the decision to take the young man with him, if he wanted to or not. There was something special about this man. He couldn't tell what. His own mind was still too covered by the many kicks against his now sore torso and he was sure they had drugged him somehow.

Was it his voice, the way he looked at him or simply the fact that this man saved his life without thinking about the consequences. He only knew that if he left him behind the mob would first torture and then kill him. So he followed the man and grabbed his right wrist.

"What's your name?"

The stranger paused, blinked several times with his eyes, then he felt sick and vomited in front of Tréville's feet while doubling over.

Tréville comforted the young man as best as he could, stroked his back and as he finally stopped vomiting he gave him his water bottle and gently cleaned his face. Tears were now running down the young man's face: tears of pain, of shame, of agony.

"You can't stay here. Come with me. I have a job for you." Tréville didn't give up.

The young man looked at him, still confused.

"I am sorry … why …"

"Because you are worth it my son."

Tréville softly smiled at him, then he pushed him forward to the interior of the stable where his horse was resting.

"I am not worthy … you will regret giving me a job. I'll only bring you pain … disaster ... sorrow ..." The man mumbled more to himself than to Tréville.

"Let me judge this for myself. Right now you brought me luck." Tréville answered softly.

The young man ignored the last sentence. He seemed to be trapped in his own thoughts and traumatic memories. Suddenly the stranger looked up and searched Tréville's blue eyes.

"You have to change that."

"What?" Tréville looked confused.

"When you wear your Musketeer uniform never go on your own, at least go with a second man, who can have your back. The soldiers of the King aren't welcome in most of the towns and villages I know." The young man suddenly said in a very clear voice.

"I will bear that in mind." Tréville looked astonished at the still drunk man who surprised him again.

"What's your name, my son?" He repeated his question he already had asked several minutes ago by adding. "I am Tréville, Captain of the King's Musketeers."

Astonished the young man's green eyes met his pale blue eyes.

"Athos." He answered, barely audibly, while he let himself be led to another horse. Tréville gave some money to the stable owner and then he returned with the important message and a young man, who just had saved his life back to the garrison. Wondering if this young man would be able to serve as one of his Musketeers one day.

 **XXXXX**

A loud cry startled Tréville out of his thoughts. He couldn't avoid another deep hole in the road.

"We are nearly there Athos. Hang in there!"

Tréville shouted over his shoulder, while he heard Athos' soft whimpers and Aramis soothing words. He turned his head to his wounded Lieutenant. Athos' eyes were wide open and he searched his. When Tréville recognized his pleading gaze it nearly broke his heart. The green eyes were asking him to make it stop. The Captain forced himself to smile at Athos.

"Five minutes … five more minutes … the streets are getting better now … you will be fine in no time. I promise you, my son."

He softly spoke, well aware that a too loud noise would only hurt Athos' head. The swordsman nodded softly, then his eyes drooped and his head collapsed back on Aramis' chest.

"He's out again, Captain." Aramis murmured. "I really hope the doctor is waiting. I fear I'll have to reopen the stitches and clean the wound properly. He shows signs of infection."

Aramis informed Tréville, who looked at him in horror.

 _Why did you go on your own? For God's sake, Athos …? Why did I send you away on your own? … With no one having your back … I let you down Athos … I am sorry …_

Tréville forced himself to look back to the street and the bumpy road and he goaded the three horses that helped to carry the wagon.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Thank you so much to my betas 3**_

 _ **Here is Part 3 of the Tréville story arch.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Tréville – Part 3**

When they finally arrived the new palace doctor was already waiting for them near the bench which the four _Inséperables_ had chosen as their favourite place in the courtyard. The doctor was in his late thirties had short brown hair and a warm smile on his face. All Tréville knew about him was that he had studied for several years in Italy. Aramis had never seen him before, but right now he was too busy giving orders to Pierre and Hugo to help him to carry his still unconscious brother on a stretcher to their infirmary.

"How is the patient?" Lemay stepped next to the unconscious form of the young Musketeer, who was now lying on a wooden bench in the infirmary, still covered in the blankets they had him roped into earlier.

"Not good, doctor." Aramis reported. "He was hit by an arrow in his thigh. I could close the wound, but he has developed a high temperature. I fear that the wound is infected."

"Such a wound in the thigh can be very dangerous." Lemay spoke quietly, while he unwrapped the blankets and put his palm on Athos' chest to check his heartbeat. "Hmm … it's beating much too fast. Has he lost a lot of blood?"

"I can't say for certain, but the wound was bleeding even as the arrow was still in his leg. I think it was moved while he was riding to safety."

Lemay removed the rest of the blankets to have a closer look at Athos' thigh after he had first lifted both eyelids of his still unresponsive patient and had checked his pupils and his temperature, while putting his hand on his forehead.

"I don't like that."

He mumbled more to himself than to Aramis or Captain Tréville, who was waiting in the distance. The Captain's face was pale, his hands sweating and he was praying that the doctor could save his Lieutenant's life.

"Has he been conscious since you found him?" Lemay asked.

"Yes, several times." Aramis answered, surveying the new doctor inquiringly.

"And did he know what had happened? I mean was he coherent enough to know what was going on around him?" Lemay turned his head to Aramis and looked into the dark eyes of the medic.

Aramis nodded, still not sure what he should think about the missing letter, maybe Athos' mind had mixed something up there.

"He could tell us what had happened and he knew who we are." Aramis added quietly.

"At least that's a good sign. Let's check the wound on his thigh. I will need cold and hot water, my instruments and towels. Then we need new clothes for him and if your cook could prepare some chicken broth that would be really helpful."

The doctor had turned his head to the Captain, who nodded.

"I will go myself and arrange everything." Tréville hurried away and left the infirmary.

Outside Tréville paused for a short moment. He felt dizzy, the smell of blood hung in his nose and he hadn't missed the worried glance on the doctor's face.

 _I hope we are not too late._

He sighed then he straightened his back and hurried into the kitchen to give Serge some orders of what the doctor would need.

In the meantime Doctor Lemay removed Aramis' blue sash from Athos' leg and looked at the stitches the medic had made only an hour ago.

"Who has done these?" He pointed at them with his fingers, stroking softly over the fine needle work.

"That was me, doctor."

"You are very skilled. I am not sure if his wound is infected but with your sewing the wound and bandaging him you have probably saved his life so far." Lemay said with an appreciative tone in his voice.

Aramis didn't answer this compliment. He knew that he was good at stitching, as a trained medic he had had to do it much too often for his liking.

"For now, but is the wound infected?" Aramis asked with a husky voice.

"I am not sure, but the high fever and the fact that he is still in a deep sleep could be a sign of infection. Best thing to find out, is to reopen your fine needle work, to look at the wound, clean it, stitch it again and put on a salve, perhaps honey. What do you think?" Lemay was trying to show Aramis that he valued his medical knowledge.

Aramis nodded again.

"He won't like it."

Aramis mumbled more to himself, while moving nearer to Athos' head, observing the still closed eyes of his friend, his mouth was half open and he could hear his soft breathing.

"I know that it will hurt him. If he wakes up we can give him laudanum, but I would prefer another pain potion, too much laudanum can be dangerous for him. Would you assist me?"

The doctor asked and Aramis nodded, while stroking with his left hand some sweaty strands out of Athos' forehead.

At that moment the door opened again and other Musketeers helped Captain Tréville to bring in the needed material.

"Here is the water, you have requested, the towels, some alcohol and your medical bag."

"Good, thank you, Captain. I will have to open the stitched wound on his thigh to check if his wound is infected. Afterwards we have to clean it, close it again and then we can only hope and pray." He informed the Captain.

After the doctor had put the small knife and a scalpel in hot water he asked Tréville and Aramis to wash their hands and he did the same. Then he asked Tréville to go behind Athos and instructed him to sponge his forehead in order to reduce his fever, while Aramis helped him with opening the stitched wound.

"Captain, if he shows any signs of waking, make sure that he doesn't move." Lemay ordered and then they started the small procedure.

Aramis watched how the doctor opened the wound again in some swift moves with small scissors and a pincette. After he had removed all thread he looked critically at the now open wound.

"Here I can see some pus." He mumbled, then he started to clean the wound.

With a small scalpel he removed the outer skin at the edges of the wound where he had noticed the white-yellowish pus. As he started with his surgery Athos moaned out loud and showed first signs of waking.

Tréville now put the wet cloth away and pulled both of Athos' shoulders down as his Lieutenant started to move restlessly around.

"Stop that Athos. Easy." He ordered in a strict commanding tone and Athos paused. "You are in good hands, so don't fight us." He added apologetically.

Tréville observed the sweaty face of his officer and recognised that Athos was fighting with himself to open his eyes. Slowly, very slowly he half opened them. With a blurred vision he noticed his commanding officer's face over his. Confused he blinked several times with his eyes.

"Wh …"

"Shh … we've brought you back. You are in the infirmary. The doctor is here and he is checking and cleaning your wounded leg.

Athos tried to lift his head to have a better view but he felt too dizzy and too tired. Lemay paused with his work and stepped next to his suffering patient.

"I am glad that you are awake. My name is Doctor Lemay and I will take care of the wound on your leg."

"Will I lose my leg?" Athos' scared eyes searched for Aramis' who had stayed silent until now and was standing at the opposite of Tréville. His head was spinning.

 _A doctor … when they have called for a doctor … it's really worse. Maybe …_ In front of his inner eye Athos saw a medic tent, a battle field and doctors amputating limbs accompanied by loud screams of fallen comrades. He felt dizzy. _Aramis … he'll tell me, he won't lie to me._ Suddenly he felt his friend's presence next to him.

"Your wound is infected, but the doctor is just cleaning it. That's why it hurts so much right now. We need to stitch it again." Aramis softly explained. "No one is talking about that you will lose your leg." He smiled and Athos relaxed a little more.

Aramis grabbed a cup of water, which was mixed with a pain potion and went next to Athos' head, helping him to drink by gently lifting his friend's head.

"Drink." He softly smiled, patting Athos' arm.

Athos managed several sips.

"Can you … can you stitch it again …" He pleaded his friend.

"I am sure he can." Lemay smiled at his patient. "I will have to clean another spot and then he can stitch it, but you will need this." Lemay showed him a small round wooden stick."

"What's that …?" Athos mumbled, his mind was still too confused due to the immense pain in his leg.

"The cleaning of the wound will hurt you, the pain will keep you awake. Put it in your mouth and bite on it, it will help you." He instructed his patient.

Lemay gave the piece of wood to Tréville and told him how to use it. Then he squeezed his patient's shoulder.

"Hang in there." The doctor told him, then he returned to his scalpel and cleaned the rest of the wound.

Athos felt the unbearable pain anxiously he searched with his right hand for Aramis' and as the latter recognized Athos' soft touch on his arm, he put his hand in his and allowed his friend to squeeze it as hard as he wished. Athos opened his mouth not able to suppress another loud scream which was now echoing in Tréville's and Aramis' ears and with his other hand the latter softly stroked over Athos' hair trying to calm him.

The Captain put the wooden stick in Athos's mouth.

"Bite on it, it will help you." He soothed softly.

While Athos followed Tréville's orders and new sweat was dripping from his forehead, the Captain continued to stroke his face softly with the wet cloth.

"You will pull through this, Athos!" Aramis told him over and over again, while his sick brother tried to catch enough oxygen through his nose and breathing in heavily.

When Lemay had finished his last cut on the skin, they heard a small sob, then Athos' eyes rolled back in his head and his whole body went limp.

Frantically Aramis searched for a pulse feeling with his palm for Athos' heartbeat and not letting his hand leave Athos' chest until he could feel his beating heart.

"Thank God!" He mumbled.

Lemay looked at the pale face of the medic.

"Shall I stitch the wound?" He asked softly, but Aramis only shook his head. Then with trembling fingers and a much too dry mouth he started to reach for needle and thread and sewed the skin of his friend for the second time that day. As he finished he stumbled some steps backwards. He felt his legs now shaking uncontrollably and he needed to sit down on a free bed next to the table, where they had laid Athos' earlier for the examination. He felt the soft mattress filled with hay sinking under his own weight. Exhausted he sighed out loud, while driving his trembling right hand through his thick brown hair.

Tréville observed him critically but understood very well why Aramis felt and reacted like this. Even if his medic and Athos could be stubborn from time to time if they had different opinions about a subject, they valued each other a lot. It wasn't easy for Aramis to stitch up his brother twice that day, knowing that he must hurt him to make him better and not knowing if he would survive.

In the meantime Lemay cleaned the inflamed skin with some alcohol mixed with water and then put a thick layer of honey on it. Exhaustedly Aramis looked over to his sick friend, while Lemay put a white bandage on the wound.

"You did well, Aramis." Lemay tried to calm the now obviously shaken Musketeer.

"I hope he will survive. I don't want to lose my friend." Aramis whispered, fighting against the tears which were welling up in his eyes.

"Your friend is young, well trained and he was lucky that you helped him at first. Now only time will tell. Every time he wakes up feed him with hot broth and give him water to drink and tea with lime blossom, thyme and camomile to lower his fever. He has lost quite a large amount of blood and he will need the fluids to fight the high fever." Lemay told the two Musketeers.

"Is it because of the pain he passed out again?" Tréville wanted to know.

"Yes, and also the blood loss and the high fever made him sleepy as well. Bath his face, wrists and ankles with cool but not too cold water. The fever should break during the night. Just make sure that all of the time someone is with him and if he gets worse call me." Lemay explained.

"We will, doctor. Thank you for your help." Tréville told him. His face still worried.

"Alas, I have to leave now, but I will check again on him tomorrow morning. We can still try with leeches, but for now I hope that broth, tea and water will work." Lemay slightly bowed his head then he hurried away.

After the doctor had left, Tréville looked from his sleeping Lieutenant over to his exhausted and much too pale medic. He could see the treacherous glistening in his soldier's eyes.

"Aramis, go, eat and rest a little. I will take the first watch. As far as I know Athos, he will ask for you as soon as he wakes and he should see you in better spirits. If you lose hope, he will lose it too."

"I …" Aramis wanted to protest, but one look from his Captain told him that he wouldn't be able to talk against it.

He stood up and moved nearer to Athos' sleeping form.

"I will help you to change his clothes and then lay him in one of the more comfortable beds, the wooden table is too hard for our Comte's sensitive skin." He tried to joke.

After Aramis had reassured himself that Athos' was tucked secure in some fresh and warm blankets and after he pressed his cold friend's right hand for a last time, he left the infirmary.

Tréville sighed out loud, then he collapsed on a small chair, which was positioned next to Athos's head and talked aloud to himself.

"It never gets any easier …"

"I'm … sor …" He heard the barely audible, slurred voice of his Lieutenant which alarmed him.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Thank you so much for reading and all those lovely reviews I want to thank on guest for the review (ch 4): I am glad that you like the horses in the story, I tried to put them in this story, especially Roger._**

 ** _Here come part 4 of the Tréville story arch … still not finished but I hope you will enjoy. If you like leave me a review I am looking forward to read what you think about it._**

 ** _I will try to update the other chapter tomorrow._**

 ** _My special thanks go out to Beth and Helen for proofing and finding my mistakes!_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Tréville – Part 4**

"I'm … sor …" Tréville heard the barely audible, slurred voice of his Lieutenant which alarmed him.

"Don't be." Tréville softly answered. "You will be better very soon, you simply scared me that's all." His whole face smiled into Athos' half open eyes.

The latter felt secure and he was obviously fighting with his own emotions: full of exhaustion, shame and a little anxiety as well.

Tréville washed the newest layer of sweat from Athos' face then he stood up, fetched a cup and poured some hot broth into it.

"The doctor says you need to drink as much broth as possible. Come, I'll help you."

Before Athos could protest he felt Tréville's left hand softly lifting his head, pulling some pillows behind his back and then he pressed the warm cup to his lips.

"Easy …" He coached him and Athos followed Tréville's instructions.

His feverish eyes met Tréville's and all he recognized was the care and trust this man had given to him in all the past years. From the first day they met until this very moment.

"I'll … be … forever in … your debt." He mumbled after he had drunk some sips and turned his head away.

"Stop talking nonsense and drink more." Tréville smiled at him.

 _I will never forgive myself if I lose you today. So fight … I know you are one of my soldiers … and I know that I can lose you on every single mission or on the battlefield. That's the risk we all have to take when we serve the King. But survive … because it would be such a senseless death … and I would miss you dearly ..._ Tréville shook his head and tried to get rid of his sad thoughts.

"Too … hot …" Athos mumbled, observing his commanding officer critically.

 _Stop worrying about me. I am not sure if my body will be strong enough to survive, but you saved my life all those years back. I was happy and grateful to serve under you Captain. You changed everything and gave me a new purpose after I thought I had lost everything … my whole family … you gave me a new one and much more … I never told you that, but you gave me more love than my own father could ever give me …_

 _You became my new father and I will always be in your debt …_ Athos sighed, turned his head away and tried to hide his tears which were welling up in his eyes.

"Then water." Tréville didn't let go and fetched a glass with water. Athos drank greedily. It helped to settle his nerves.

 _The broth has obviously been to hot._

Tréville thought, wiping some tears away from Athos' face which were running down his cheeks. The latter nodded gratefully but didn't comment on the tender gesture of his Captain. He was somewhere else with his thoughts and Tréville found out soon enough where he was, as he had predicted earlier ...

"Aramis?" Athos asked with his weak and sore voice accompanied by a questioning look. Turning his head and searching with his eyes the semi dark infirmary.

"I sent him to eat, drink and rest. We both know that he will be awake the whole night at your side, so he will need his strength."

Athos nodded groggily.

"I feel so hot." He suddenly said and his scared eyes searched Tréville's.

"You have a pretty high fever, but you will be better tomorrow, promise."

Tréville put all his strength together to give his officer hope and support, hiding his face behind a mask he had trained all those years in front of King Louis, when his Majesty had another crazy idea or his mood turned into a four-year-old boy … - but he couldn't cover his face in front of his Lieutenant.

"You are a ... bad ... liar …" Athos mumbled.

"The doctor told me that you need to drink plenty, shall we try the broth again, it's cooler now."

Athos managed some more sips and then he let his head exhaustedly drop back onto the pillow.

"Thank you … for …" He didn't finish the sentence because the sleep pulled him over and had him again in a firm grip.

 _You don't need to thank me Athos … I have to thank you … all those years back you saved my life and you saved mine and that of your brothers many times more. Get better. Sleep. Rest. I will try to help you to fight this as best as I can and then I will go and find out who has done this to you …_ Tréville thought grimly.

He heard Athos' soft breathing. His officer had fallen asleep again and he hoped that the sleep would help him, while waiting for Aramis and the others to return and to wake at their brother's side as they always did, he watched the rise and fall of Athos' chest which was so reassuring.

Tréville didn't stop cooling Athos' face, wrists and ankles for over an hour. When he heard the neighing of horses and shouts outside the courtyard he knew that Porthos and d'Artagnan had returned.

 _Soon very soon all your brothers will be here and then it'll be time for me to start to investigate. You should have brought a letter back to the palace, but now the letter is missing._

 _Have you lost it, after you were wounded? Is the letter the real reason why you were attacked? I should have asked you if you knew the content of the letter, but I wanted to let you rest and not upset you by the fact that the message for the palace is missing. I hope Porthos and d'Artagnan could find the letter. I have to be patient. Several minutes more. They will come … I can wait … I can wait at your side … they will report to me soon enough … being by your side has more priority for me right now than a simple sheet of paper._

Tréville heard Athos whimpering in his sleep and he knew that nightmares were haunting him. He heard him mumbling the name _Anne_ and he wished that Aramis would hurry back to ease his brother's pain.

 **XXXXX**

"How is Athos?"

Porthos looked confused at Aramis who was sitting outside at their favourite bench at the courtyard. He had a cup with wine in front of him and a plate with cheese and bread, but Aramis had left them untouched. He stared with his dark eyes at the stable directly in front of him.

Anxiously d'Artagnan searched Porthos' eyes worriedly asking if their brother hadn't made it.

Porthos shrugged, jumped down from his black stallion and approached Aramis. D'Artagnan didn't dare to move and stayed where he was - still on Zad's back.

"Aramis?" Porthos reached his brother and laid his right palm on his friend's shoulder. "What's wrong. Is Athos … has he …?" Porthos heard his own voice hushed and now broken as he didn't dare to ask the question, which answer he dreaded.

Aramis, who felt Porthos and d'Artgnan's anxiety turned his head around.

"No. I am sorry I …"

"What is it?" D'Artagnan now asked in a hushed voice from the distance. He had decided to stay on his horse, this way he could escape to a lonely place if he needed time to sort out his own grief. Zad who felt his tension nodded several times nervously with his head.

"I … Tréville sent me away: to rest, to eat …"

"How is he?"

Porthos now sat next to his brother on the bench and laid his arm around Aramis shoulder. The marksman leaned into his gentle grip.

"The wound was infected … the doctor cleaned it … I had to restitch it … and now all we can do is pray … that his high fever will decrease over night." Aramis spoke in a low voice, taking deep breaths between his explanation and suppressing his need to sob.

"You should go back to him … he needs you."

"He's asleep, Porthos."

"Even if he sleeps, he can feel your presence."

"Why have you really left? I know you. Normally you'd stay with us, if we are not well, even if the Captain orders us to rest." Porthos insisted. "So, what's wrong?"

"He … he asked me to leave him alone."

"What … why … when …?"

D'Artagnan asked confused. He had finally dismounted from his horse to sit now opposite to Aramis on the bench.

The marksman didn't look up, but mumbled:

"When I drove with him on the wagon. He asked me to leave, to take the letter to the palace. He thought this damn letter would be much more important than his life."

"You know how he is, duty comes always first." D'Artagnan now softly began to speak. "I am sure he didn't mean that you should leave him alone, but serve our King." He added.

"Our young lad is damn right." Porthos slapped Aramis on his back. "See, now eat and drink and then get yourself back into the infirmary. We'll come with you and we will wait and wake together at his bedside." Porthos encouraged his brother.

Aramis nodded with sad brown eyes.

"I think you are wrong … I think he wanted me to leave him, but he can be stubborn and sometimes I need to ignore his stubbornness to help him. Thank you my brothers for seeing things more clearly." Aramis spoke up.

He took a large gulp from the wine and regretted it instantly.

 _I should have eaten something first._

An idea crossed his foggy mind and he looked at his friends, first at Porthos, who was stealing a piece of bread, then to d'Artagnan.

"Have you found the letter?"

"Well, that's …" D'Artagnan wanted to answer, but at that moment the door to the infirmary opened and Tréville looked over to them.

"Aramis, I think he needs you." Tréville shouted over to them.

Without any hesitation Aramis jumped up and ran over to Tréville followed by Porthos and d'Artagnan who rushed behind him.

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Thank you for all your lovely comments. Wow!**_

 _ **Here is part 5 of the Tréville story arch.**_

 _ **Again thank you so much for my betas Beth & Helen xx.**_

* * *

 **Tréville - Part 5**

Porthos and d'Artagnan wanted to follow Aramis into the infirmary, but Captain Tréville stopped them.

"Wait! I think it's best if Aramis takes care of him alone."

"Why?" Porthos already protested and d'Artagnan who had followed him crashed in his back.

"Sorry!" He mumbled.

Both men looked confused at their Captain.

"Is it that bad?" Porthos asked.

Tréville sighed out loud.

"I don't know, he still has a very high fever and now he is haunted by some nightmares. He has called for Aramis in his sleep, so I thought it best to give them both some time. Something has been going on between them both for weeks now, maybe they can finally settle that."

He looked first into Porthos' and then in d'Artagnan's brown eyes, trying to smile at them and wishing he could show them some comfort and support.

 _I wish I could tell both of you that he will be fine again, that he will survive, but right now I am not sure. We have to wait, Aramis will care for him, Athos has asked for him. Thus it is the best thing to give them this time together._

"Besides I want to know who this dead person is, who is lying at the back of this horse over there? Will you two please enlighten me! And have you found the letter?" He added.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

Aramis stepped quietly into the half dark infirmary. Athos turned his head towards him, when he heard the steps of his friend's boots creaking on the wooden floor. His feverish glistening eyes searched for Aramis' eyes and as they finally locked, Athos let his head drop back onto the pillow and breathed in deeply.

"I had … a … nightmare …" He mumbled. "I'm glad ... you are ... here." He added in a low and rough voice.

Aramis stepped closer to him, his eyes scanning Athos' whole body. He was still wrapped in several warm blankets, his face was sweaty and pale and around his eyes he could see an unnatural redness. All signs of the blood loss and a high fever.

"You need to drink more." Aramis reached for a cup filled with tea.

Athos tried to hold it with his right hand, but he shook too much so Aramis decided to keep it in his hands.

Slowly with his left hand he helped to lift Athos' head and pressed the cup softly to his lips.

"Here, drink my friend. Your body needs it." Athos obeyed but exhausted he turned his head away after several sips.

"I'm so tired, … mis."

"I know. Try to sleep." Aramis whispered softly.

He put the cup down and reached for a wet cloth to start bathing Athos' forehead again. The latter leant in to the cool touch.

"Don't stop … this feels … so … good …" Athos slurred.

"Close your eyes and sleep. I am here." Aramis smiled.

"I can't …" Athos mumbled. "Bad … nightmares …"

Aramis nodded understandingly, knowing very well that Athos' nightmares were haunting him lately more often. After Milady nearly managed to kill him several weeks ago they had started anew. Athos hadn't told them, but Porthos and Aramis had soon found out about it, because he started to stay longer in the taverns, drank too much again or simply looked overtired during morning muster. They hadn't asked him, but started simply to comfort him. They were going with him to the taverns, making sure that he didn't drink too much and telling him when it was time to go back to the garrison.

"I know …" Aramis mumbled and squeezed Athos' hand.

Then he checked Athos's wrists and ankles and refreshed the wet cloths which Tréville had wrapped around them earlier. He felt that they were too warm for his liking and he started to renew them in silence.

Athos enjoyed the soft touch and was grateful that at least his hands and feet weren't tucked in the warm blankets. He felt he was being cooked.

"Have you found ... the letter?" Athos asked quietly.

"Would you forget about the letter for just one moment, Athos. You are much more important than a sheet of paper." Aramis said angrily and he regretted his harsh voice in an instant. "I am …"

"Don't …" Athos mumbled and searched Aramis' eyes.

They went silent for a while.

"I have to … apologize, … Ara … mis." Athos quietly said.

"I know why you went on your own …" Aramis paused. "But it was foolish … you could have been killed." He chided and then smiled at his brother. "You do know that you are stubborn …"

"As you are …" Athos answered drily.

Aramis stayed silent.

"They are asking questions and wondering what's going on between us."

"They must never know, Aramis! We … we have to protect … them."

"It makes me sick … lying … lying to my best friends, Athos, but I know that you are right. I …" Aramis dropped on the chair next to Athos' head and buried his face in his hands. "I nearly lost you …" He whispered under tears ...

"That's the risk … we choose every day … by serving … the King." Athos softly squeezed Aramis' leg with his hand and his friend looked up, wiping his tears away angrily.

"Yes, I know … but we can prevent it by stopping going on suicide missions on our own." He huffed.

Then he stood up again and busied himself with checking Athos' ankles and refreshing the last cloth.

"I knew ... you ... would come …"

Athos started to say, but he paused as he suddenly felt dizzy and his vision blurred. He felt his heart throbbing in his chest and blinked several times in order to see Aramis clearer but before he could tell his friend he realized that something was very wrong with his body.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the courtyard_**

"So you are telling me, that you haven't found a letter, but only this last attacker with a slashed throat?" Tréville groaned loudly, putting his face in his right palm.

"Yes, Captain." D'Artagnan confirmed what Porthos just had told him.

"Alright!" Tréville closed his blue eyes for a moment then he opened them, as a plan had formed in his mind. "This letter seems to be of great importance. D'Artagnan, you will come with me, we will ride back to _Chateau de Fontainebleau_.

"Now?" D'Artagnan asked confused. "It's already getting dark." He added.

"The faster we can go there, the faster we will know what message should arrive with the King." Tréville exclaimed.

"I can come with you as well. I want to know who is behind the attacks against Athos." Porthos offered.

"I know Porthos. We all want to know, but as long as Athos is still not out of the woods it would be good if you stay and help Aramis." Tréville explained.

"I will help you to saddle the horses and fetch you some provisions, stay safe and come back as fast as possible. The both of you." Porthos asked them then he hurried away.

For a short moment d'Artagnan wondered if he could sneak into the infirmary to make sure if Athos was really on his way to recovery as his Captain had told them earlier, but a strong glance from his Captain stopped him.

"I know you want to stay as well, me too, but our duty comes first. The letter could warn our King of something.

"Have you asked Athos about the content of the letter?" D'Artagnan asked curiously.

"He was still too weak and I didn't want to upset him. If I had asked earlier, he would have known that the letter is missing." Tréville replied.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

"I …"

Athos started and Aramis turned around seeing Athos' right hand. The swordsman tried to lift it in order to reach for him, but his hand dropped back lifeless on his belly.

"What is it?"

Aramis asked and hurried next to Athos' head, sitting down on the chair and gently pressing Athos' now much too cool hand.

"My head … spins … I … my body … I can't feel …" Athos slurred, while trying to catch his breath.

"Easy! Calm!" Aramis pressed Athos' hand again and tried to lock eyes with his more and more confused sounding brother.

Athos turned his head towards Aramis. His eyes were blinking several times, he wanted to say more, but he couldn't. He felt his racing heartbeat bursting in his chest and he tried to open his mouth wide to suck in more oxygen. Confused he tried to think what could be wrong with him.

 _Aramis, why can't I talk to you? Why do I have difficulty in breathing …? I feel so hot … those blankets … Help Aramis … I can see you only blurred … am I dying? … is this the way I am leaving this world … I am afraid Aramis … I don't …_

"... want to die …" were the only words Athos managed to say to Aramis barely audible.

"You won't die. Fight, Athos, fight! You are the most stubborn person I know, you will live."

Aramis whispered in his ear now stroking softly over his friend's hair suppressing his own emotions to give his brother strength.

He observed Athos closely but the symptoms his patient's body showed scared him and he suddenly realized what was going on. He jumped to his feet and pulled away the pillows that were tucked behind Athos's back. He softly guided his head with both of his hands on the soft mattress.

His friend's eyes suddenly looked very distant, his pupils were blown wide and some muskus was drooling out of his mouth. Athos was unable to swallow.

 _What's wrong with me? Why are you putting those pillows away …? Oh … you know … you know what's wrong with me … with my body. Tell me … Aramis, please … what …_

"Nooo …"

Athos gave a low moan through his now wide open mouth, he couldn't articulate any word or phrase anymore. Suddenly he felt that he wasn't under the control of his own body anymore. With scared eyes he pleaded Aramis for help, who smiled with all his love and fondness at his brother, but stepped back at the same time away from his body and hoped that what would come next wouldn't last too long.

Athos felt a small tremor in his right leg, which grew stronger and stronger, then it reached his left, his arms and hands followed until his whole body felt tense. Suddenly his limbs started trembling and twitching uncontrollably. He didn't know what was going on.

 _What's wrong with my body? Why can't I control my movements any longer? It's so hot. My heart … it is beating so fast … Aramis … I can hear it so loud … I … I want to breathe … why is it so difficult … ahhhh … my leg ..._

Aramis watched in horror the fast deterioration of his friend's state of health. He felt the need to do something, but he knew that he couldn't touch his friend right now, he would only hurt him.

 _Dear God, make it pass quickly. He has already suffered enough …_ Aramis tried to comfort his brother as best he could by talking softly soothing words next to his ear without touching him.

Athos' hands and legs now moved uncontrollably. He felt his upper body bowing in a weird posture that hurt him, but as hard as he tried he couldn't make it pass. At the same time his legs and arms didn't stop moving restlessly and the intense pain in his wounded leg only grew worse. His eyes moved to the left side and he became unaware of what was happening.

Athos tried to scream, but he couldn't, only some moans escaped his lips. His head tossed restlessly from one side to the other and his gritted teeth bit his tongue. He felt the salty taste of blood in his mouth, which tasted odd. He couldn't control his lower body any longer and he felt some unpleasant wetness around his legs, but his mind was too occupied to really understand what had just happened.

Aramis watched his friend with horror and anxiety, he noticed the small traces of blood leaving Athos' still open mouth and running down his chin. He felt with him while his whole body was cramping and moving uncontrollably. He feared that the current state his friend was in would tear his needle work again and he prayed that it would stop soon.

As fast as the seizure had appeared and gripped Athos' whole body it left the sick man. Athos went limp and his upper body crushed down again on the mattress and his head lolled sideways. Confused the swordsman blinked his eyes several times trying to find out what had just happened. His mouth wide open he tried to gain control over his breathing again.

Now the fit was over, Aramis felt confident to touch Athos again. With the wet cloth he wiped the blood traces from his chin, while smiling at him.

Athos' confused eyes blinked several times, it seemed that he had problems working out what was going on.

"Shhh … it's over. Don't try to speak. You have bitten your tongue and it must hurt you." Aramis softly spoke to his friend.

Athos tried to open his mouth nevertheless, he felt the heavy pulsing weight of his injured tongue and tasted some blood on his teeth.

"Wh …" He slurred, still too confused to register what just had befallen his body.

"Your high fever just caused your body to have a seizure."

Aramis quietly explained and sat next to his brother on the mattress to have a closer look. He helped Athos to free himself from the now sweat soaked blankets and noticed that Athos' shirt was drenched in sweat too.

Athos followed each of Aramis moves with his eyes, still not able to say anything. As Aramis bent down to check Athos' wounded thigh and his needle work, Athos turned his body to his right side, curled up into a foetal position and Aramis felt a soft weight suddenly in his lab. Irritated he turned his head back.

Athos had dropped his head onto his legs, his eyes closed, his mouth half open, exhausted he had fallen asleep, while searching for the closeness of his friend.

 _Thank God it's over. We have to bring down this damn fever._

Aramis' hand softly stroked over the thick curly brown hair of his friend and felt the heat emanating from Athos' forehead.

 _Damm! You are still much too hot._

"Let's sponge your whole upper body." He quietly said to his sleeping, unresponsive friend.

Then he carefully lifted Athos' head out of his lap and placed it gently on a soft pillow. After he was sure that Athos was resting peacefully, Aramis drew his hand through his thick dark hair. Then he hitched up the sleeves of his white shirt and looked for a bowl with water and a towel. Angrily Aramis stood up and started to remove the last of the blankets they had tucked round Athos earlier.

"Without the blankets, you will feel better." He said to his sleeping friend.

He noticed the wetness around Athos' braries and knew that he would need help to change his clothes. Athos' shirt was soaked in sweat but at least the bandage around his thigh was still white, so he prayed that the stitches were still intact.

"It looks like you could use some help."

A deep voice startled Aramis as he slowly turned to the newcomer around.

 _To be continued …_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Hey there,**_

 _ **I have updated this morning ch 12, but somehow it still says updated yesterday. So I put ch 13 now up too in the hope that this will be shown then as a new chapter.**_

 _ **So if you haven't read ch 12 yet, please read this before.**_

 _ **My special thanks goes out to Beth who helped me with this chapter.**_

 _ **Thanks to Helensg and Ebm36 for encouraging me to move on with this story.**_

* * *

 **Tréville – Part 6**

Porthos sensed Aramis tension. From the door he had observed Aramis' freeing Athos, from layers of warm blankets, while Athos' head rested in an odd position in his lap. He had observed Aramis' gentle movements as he lay their sleeping brother's on his back, supporting his head until it lay safely on the white pillow again.

As the marksman turned his head around to look at Porthos, the streetfighter could see traces of tears on his face. Anxiously he looked over to Athos, who snored softly.

"What happened?" Porthos asked bluntly.

"His high fever just caused his whole body to convulse. It was horrible to watch him to suffer like this and I couldn't do anything to stop it." Aramis turned his head to his friend, shoulders bent, eyes wide and his voice trembled slightly. "We need to sponge him down and he will need fresh clothes."

"Oh!" Porthos exclaimed as he followed Aramis' gaze to the wet linen. "Do you think cooling him with wet cloths will help to reduce his high fever?"

"I don't know … but we have to try, Porthos. I don't want to lose him. I …" He caught his breath.

Porthos stepped closer to Aramis then laid his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"You know in the Court of Miracles, when children had a high fever the women always took them to the washing house. There they sat them in a tub with warm, not too hot or too cool, water and it helped, the fever went down."

"Are you telling me …"

"I have just seen Jean going over to bathhouse. He has prepared a bath for himself, but I am sure he will wait if he knows that we need his water for Athos.

"You mean …" Aramis stared at him.

"What do we have to lose? We need to clean him anyway, why don't we do it with warm water, so we can clean his sweaty body properly.

"But how …?" Aramis tired it again, but Porthos stopped him.

"Go, hurry and tell Jean, I will carry Athos over there. Give me five minutes to prepare him."

Porthos encouraged Aramis, then he pushed him softly towards the door with a commanding tone:

"Go, Aramis. I will take care of him. Trust me."

As Aramis finally left Porthos sighed out deeply. He walked over to his sleeping friend and stroked softly over his hair.

"Are you awake?" He softly whispered, but the only answer he received was Athos' soft breathing. "You are out cold. I really hope you don't remember what this convulsion did to you." He mumbled.

He looked around, then he went over to the next bed and pulled away the fresh white sheets. They were thinner than the blankets they had tucked Athos earlier.

Carefully he wrapped his sleeping friend in the white linen. Then he lifted his friend's body in his strong arms. Athos' head lolled on his chest and Porthos stabilized it with his chin to prevent it from moving further. He felt the heat from Athos' face on his own skin.

 _Let's move and don't wake now. I know you, you will struggle with me and we both will end up on the floor._ Porthos sighed in his thoughts.

The strong streetfighter gently carried his precious cargo over to the bathhouse, where Jean already waited for him in the open door.

"Aramis, just told me. I will make sure that no one else comes and disturbs you."

Anxiously the Musketeer glared over, but all he could see was Athos closed eyes, the rest of his body was wrapped in a white linen like an armory.

"I hope he will pull through." He mumbled, while Porthos made haste and crossed the threshold of the door.

"Believe me, I will make sure that he will survive." Porthos answered him through gritted teeth.

Inside the bathhouse Porthos was welcomed by the steam that ascended from the warm water in the tub. He could smell the odour of lime blossoms and lavender hanging in the air.

Aramis hurried next to him.

"I have prepared the tub Jean wanted to use. He hasn't climbed in yet. I have added some cooler water. So the temperature should be fine now. How shall we do it?" He asked.

"We have to free him from his soaked clothes, maybe we should put him on this chair and then I will lift him into the warm water and you will hold his head so that he won't drown." Porthos suggested.

Aramis nodded and they both hurried to prepare their still sleeping friend for his bath. After they had gently helped him out of his soaked clothes Aramis wrapped a towel around the hip of his unconscious friend. Then Porthos lifted him up again, while Aramis now supported his head. They expected him to wake as soon as his body touched the water, but at first nothing happened. Their friend was unaware where he was and what his friends were doing to help him.

Aramis sighed loudly then he grabbed another towel, laid it under Athos' head, which he now gently rested at the corner of the tub, to cushion and protect his head. Then he sat on a small stool Porthos had brought him and started to sponge Athos' face with a wet cloth, while Porthos did the same with his friend's chest.

 _Where am I … my skin feels odd … it's not that hot anymore … but somehow wet … is it raining … I don't hear pouring rain … no it's not a warm summer rain … I smell rosewater and lavender and camomile … Aramis?_

 _I need to open my eyes, but my eyelids feel so heavy … I am so tired … I need to …_

 _Whatever it is … don't stop … it feels so good … it … wait …_

Slowly Athos tried to open his eyes. Confused he blinked through the thick layer of dust which was filling the garrison's bathroom. He needed some time to adjust his eyes to the surroundings. He could hear the sound of splashing water, feeling hands cleaning his skin, hands touching his face, hands moving gently over his chest … but he didn't realize what was going on.

His heart started to beat faster again as he frantically tried to understand where he was. He knew that his brothers were with him … but everything else seemed like a blank page in his mind. He remembered talking to Aramis earlier about the letter and then his body had started suddenly to tremble like a leave on a windy day in a lonely tree in the last days of autumn. After that he couldn't remember anything.

Slightly he moved his head, his vision still blurred he searched Aramis' eyes, who he knew was behind him, because he could smell his perfume in his nose.

"What …?" His lips formed the question, which was barely audible.

"There you are."

Athos stared into two big dark brown eyes and a big mouth grinning brightly at him, which now leaned over his face and he could hear Porthos soft and gentle voice, trying to hide his concern.

"Are you with us now?" He heard the melodic voice whispering in his ear from Aramis behind him, while he was softly stroking with his left thumb over his cheekbone.

"Where ... am ... I?" Athos asked still confused.

He tried to move his body and the water in which it lay started to splash over the edge of the tub.

"In our bathhouse, moreover in a tub with warm water." Aramis softly explained.

"I can't recall … how did I get here?" Athos mumbled.

His body was too weak to get up on his own so he decided to simply enjoy the water which felt so good on his skin and to stay where he was.

 _Why and how did I end in a bathtub filled with warm water and smelling like a perfumed harem?_

As much as he enjoyed the warmth around him, the loss of memory started to worry him and he began to move more frantically in his water. Reaching with his hands for the corner of the wooden bathtub and trying to orientate himself in the foggy surrounding. The white fog resembled his own mind.

"You were deep asleep." Porthos softly explained. "I had to carry you."

"Oh?" Athos exclaimed. His brothers could hear the insecurity in his voice.

"Porthos, stop scaring him." Aramis chided his big brother.

"What can you remember?" He softly asked.

Athos seemed to becoming more and more coherent and Aramis felt his patient laying his head deeper on his palms searching his help.

"I was talking to you … in the infirmary … and … then … my body acted strangely ... I've never experienced anything ... like that before … but you knew, Aramis ... you removed the pillows … you knew … I tried to say something ... but my whole body started to shake …"

Athos answered having trouble speaking clearly, catching for breath and trying to calm his nerves as he relived the horrible experience.

"Your high fever caused your body to have convulsions." Aramis softly explained. "Not very long, but you bit your tongue and when the fit was over, you were very confused and fell asleep."

"We needed to bring your body temperature down again that's why you are in this tub right now." Porthos explained.

Athos nodded softly.

"I see." He murmured.

Aramis moved his right hand away from under Athos' head and felt his forehead.

"You still have a fever, but it is not as high."

"Hmm …" Athos answered and his eyes started to droop again.

Porthos felt the temperature of the water with his hand and decided that it was cooling down.

"Let's take you back." He smiled at Athos.

"Will I …"

Athos suddenly asked, he opened his eyes and with a scared look he searched for an answer in Porthos now anxious face.

"No … you won't … your fever has broken finally." Aramis chided him. Angry about Athos fear, but understanding it at the same moment.

"Thank you." Athos barely audible, managed to breathe fighting against tears that were welling up in his eyes.

"Let's get you out of this tepid water." Porthos exclaimed to change the subject.

Then he stood up and reached under Athos armpits with his strong hands. He ignored that now the water from the tub was covering his own clothes.

"I can … on my own … no ..." Athos sighed.

He tired to protest at first, but a sharp pain in his left leg as his foot touched the bottom of the tub told him that he couldn't. Like a helpless little child he needed to rely on Porthos.

"Put your arms around my neck. Yes, that's it …" Porthos coached him.

Aramis was already waiting with fresh towels and as soon as they had lifted Athos out of the tub he started to wrap Athos' whole body with them and began drying his friend. Then he helped him into a warm shirt and after that in his braies, while Porthos had put Athos on a stool.

Again Athos blinked at them both confused. He was too groggy to complain. His body was still too weak. Exhaustedly he led his head drop, that now rested on Porthos' chest, who was kneeling in front of his sick brother to have a better grip on him and prevent him from tumbling down from the chair.

The strong man felt Athos' head lolling on his chest, his wet hair drenched his shirt, then he felt Athos' soft warm breath on his skin.

"He's out again." He whispered to Aramis, who nodded.

"It's better that way. Shall we carry him back on the stretcher." He asked.

Porthos shook his head.

"No worries, I have him, he is much cooler."

He then stood up, lifted his sleeping friend again in his arms and with Aramis help they carried their weak friend back to the infirmary, where they laid him on fresh linens in another bed.

"I am glad that he has forgotten about most of the fit."

Porthos mumbled to Aramis, who now sat down next to Athos' head. This time they only covered him with a light white sheet and observed the rise and fall of their brother's chest, watching over him.

"I think the worst is over. Thank you Porthos, your idea was brilliant … I don't know why I hadn't thought about it earlier."

"Ahh, rubbish Aramis … you would have come to the same conclusion. I think you still had to cope with the sight of our shaking brother. I don't envy you that you had to watch it." Porthos laid his big palm on Aramis' shoulder and squeezed it softly. "Rest for a while. I'll take the first shift of the night, wake next to him and give him tea and broth to drink, when he wakes up." He advised his brother. "I'll wake you later." He added.

Aramis softly nodded, left the chair and then went to the bed next to Athos, laid down on it, turned his body on the right side to watch his brother sleeping. His soft breathing finally lulled himself to sleep. Soon Porthos could hear both of his brothers sleeping.

With a big smile on his face he guarded over both of them.

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 **Note:**

 _I know in these two parts there is no Tréville in it but he will be in the last part of this story arch again._

 _Won't be able to update in the next couple of days, but I will as soon as I can._

 _xx Kira_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Hey there, ff net doesn't like me today ...**_

 _ **I have updated ch 12 &13 earlier and both didn't appear at the top.**_

 _ **So I give it a last try with ch 14 - with this part I end the Tréville story arch.**_

 _ **Enjoy and please leave me a comment to the ch 12-14 what you think about it. Thank you !**_

 _ **Thank you so much to Beth who helped me with correcting the text.**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Tréville – Part 7**

They rode hard trying to reach _Chateau de Fontainebleau_ as soon as they could. D'Artagnan next to Tréville, both men deep in thought. It became darker and darker and soon they realized that they had to make a stop. It was new moon so they could hardly see their own hands in front of their faces and Tréville feared that their horses could trip and fall or break a leg.

"It doesn't make any sense to continue. We have to wait for the dawn."

"I know a small village about half an hour away from us. There is an inn, where we can at least have something to eat and drink." D'Artagnan suggested and the Captain agreed.

When they sat down to have a glass of wine and a small dinner Tréville notice that d'Artagnan wasn't eating anything.

"Tell me." He encouraged the young man who was trapped in his thoughts.

"I …" D'Artagnan sighed, closed his eyes and then opened them again and looked in the dim candlelight of the dark inn over to his Captain. "I am afraid that I won't be able to say goodbye." D'Artagnan whispered. His head now down, his shoulders hunched.

Tréville sighed inwardly. He should have taken another Musketeer with him, but he trusted d'Artagnan to have his back and in this moment he had thought it would be a good idea to distract d'Artagnan with a task. He put down the goblet from which he just had drunk, searched d'Artagnan's eyes with his own and then he cleared his throat:

"I'll tell you now a story I'm not sure Athos would be happy that I share it with you. But he isn't here, so promise me that it will stay between us and it won't bother him."

The young man looked curiously at his Captain. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word, so he simply nodded and the Captain accepted this gesture as proof enough.

"I guess Athos never told you how he became a Musketeer."

"No, not really. Aramis has told me his story and even Porthos shared some bits and pieces, but Athos never said a word about it and I never dared to ask him. He is very private ..."

D'Artagnan answered with a low voice, which was hardly detectable in the loud sounds of the other visitors of the inn.

"In the beginning it was not easy for him. He had to fight with his inner demons and little did we know about his past back then. I assumed that he was a nobleman because of the way he speaks, his education and the very expensive and well carved sword."

D'Artagnan nodded understandingly but let his Captain speak.

"Porthos and Aramis tried to help him, they didn't judge him and followed him more than once, when he ended up in a shabby tavern again and drowned his sorrows in alcohol in the hope of simply forgetting …" Tréville paused.

He remembered those occasions as if they had only happened a week ago. Observing from his balcony Athos supported by Porthos and Aramis taking him home late at night. He sighed then he continued.

"... but other recruits of the regiment weren't so patient with him. They told him more than once that they doubted that he could become a good Musketeer and believe it or not those words hurt him."

"Why did they talk so bad about him?" D'Artagnan couldn't say a bad word about his mentor, who had helped him the last months in every possible way.

"Because he was different and when people are different or not like others, people start to talk bad about them. They need it to feel themselves better, bigger ...

I am pretty sure that they envied him because of his excellent sword skills and they knew that I protected and favoured him, because I could see something great in him."

"He's a natural leader and as a commanding officer you noticed that at once, because it is your duty to judge new recruits." D'Artagnan smiled at his Captain.

 _This young man is smart. No wonder the Inséperables adopted him._ Tréville thought.

Tréville paused. He wouldn't tell him how they both met. It would be up to Athos one day to tell this story if he felt like it. The Captain of the Musketeers was pretty sure that if he hadn't insisted that the young man come along he would have died sooner or later in one lonely street, either being attacked by bandits or drowned himself to death with cheap and bad alcohol.

He had known too many soldiers who had acted like that after horrible experiences during a battle.

"So Athos had to deal with the hatred of the other recruits and at this time I noticed that he was - and is - a strong fighter who has tremendous willpower and yes, he can be stubborn as well." He laughed softly.

"I think I know what you want to tell me." D'Artagnan whispered.

"He had the will to become a Musketeer and he fought against bad rumours, hatred and prejudice -of course with the help of Aramis and Porthos, who were already Musketeers back then- and he reached his target."

Tréville now smiled like a proud father remembering the day he had helped Athos into his pauldron after he had been commissioned by the King.

"He's a fighter and he has the will to live … and I think you are one of the reasons he has this will to live … so don't be afraid d'Artagnan." Tréville put a hand on d'Artagnan's right shoulder and squeezed it softly.

D'Artagnan stayed silent for a while, fighting with his tears. After several minutes he raised his head and searched his Captain's eyes.

"You're right, Captain. He will live! Besides he has Aramis and Porthos at his side and they fight for and with him as they did back then." He smiled. "I drink to that." He raised his goblet and Tréville followed his example answering: "Hear, hear!"

 ** _To be continued …_**


	15. Chapter 15

**_Hey there,_**

 ** _I have not forgotten about this story. Just a very busy summer and a thesis that I have to move on with, but I will definitely finish this story. It simply will take a little bit more time. (The story I have written with Ebm36 is already finished, so it is easier to post that on a regular basis!) So please be patient with me._**

 ** _This story belongs to the Saturday Stories on the Facebook page: The Musketeer BBC UK and right now they are pausing until the beginning of September. I am not sure if I will wait that long with my updates, probably not. If I have the chance I will try to post a chapter weekly._**

 ** _Thank you so much for all your reviews and reading. Thank you beeblegirl for your review and your kind words!_**

 ** _Not sure but I had problems with uploading the last chapters on ff net they never reached the top and I had problems with my mailbox, so I guess some reviews have probably not reached me and I am not sure if some of you have missed ch 12._**

 ** _Thank you to my beta Beth who helped me with the corrections. All left mistakes are mine not hers!_**

 ** _The Saturday Story theme was Milady … that's why I had to bring her in somehow, but in the following chapters I will concentrate more on the letter and the message it contained._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

 **Milady / the letter – Part 1**

Dark brown eyes, like dull beads, staring at the ceiling, no staring at him, shouting at him.

 _What have you done …?_

 _Why have you let her in our house, in our life, this unworthy …_

 _No, stop it._

Nooooo!

"Athos? Are you awake?" Porthos straightened his back on the hard wooden chair on which he was sitting, then he bent over his friend who was obviously having a nightmare and softly put his palm on his chest.

"Shhh … everything is alright. You have had a bad dream, wake up." He tried to sooth Athos, but his friend was still too deep in his dream.

He could see the agitated movement under his friend's eyelids. A much too common picture he had observed over the years he'd known the swordsman. For a moment he considered waking him with a slap on his cheek, but he hoped that his soothing words would help him more to find a more restful sleep instead.

He could hear Athos softly moaning as, with his hand, he now checked, his friend's temperature on his forehead. The skin felt hot, but it wasn't the burning heat any more.

"Calm. I am here my friend. Shhh … You will be better." Porthos took a wet cloth and started to cool his friend's face and the young man's breathing seemed to relax again.

 _I wish that morning would come soon. You only having those bad dreams during the night._ Porthos sighed.

 _Anne? Stop crying? Stop looking at me with those pale green eyes._

 _I can't …_

 _How …?_

 _What …?_

 _What have you done?_

 _My God. I can't … I …_

 _Why? Why could I have been so blind?_

"Nooo!" Athos screamed, but his eyes stayed closed.

"Shhh … Athos. Tell me what's bothering you. Athos?" Porthos softly whispered in his friend's ear.

 _I can't reach you my friend you are gripped by this horrible nightmare. So I will simply wake you and hope that it will leave you soon._ Porthos frustratedly thought.

 _Let me wake from this horrible nightmare. I'm sorry Thomas, so sorry, I never expected that. How could I? I was so blind … blinded by my emotions, my love …_ _Stop … I can't see those brown eyes any longer._

 _It hurts … it hurts so much …_

Athos felt the pain in his leg but he couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Instead he only could see still brown eyes staring angrily at him and it scared him.

 _Why now … why all over again …?_

 _She … she is screaming and telling lies._

 _I'm sorry ... I am so sorry … I failed you …_

"Ara … mis." He suddenly slurred.

Porthos wasn't sure if he should wake his overtired other brother, who was sleeping in the small bed next to Athos. Instinctively the sleeping man was now turning and reaching with his hand out to Athos, but it dangled down from the mattress instead of reaching his goal -touching his brother's arm- and Aramis continued to sleep.

Porthos shook his head.

 _No, Aramis needs his rest as well._

"Hey, Athos, Aramis is next to you. He is safe. Do you hear me?"

But again he didn't receive an answer and instead he softly stroked over Athos' thick hair, hoping that this movement would somehow calm him again.

 _I failed you Aramis … I … how could I …_

 _No … I … what is wrong with me …?_

 _I wish I was dead and you would live …_

 _Thomas … I miss you so much._

 _I can never … we can never …_

 _Thomas … come back …_

 _Please._

 _Your brown eyes begging me for help._

 _Another ride on our horses, please._

 _Another time fighting with swords, please._

 _Another time going down to the river, please._

 _Athos help me … please …_

 _I can't … I wish I can … I ..._

 _Your brown eyes, Thomas no d'Artagnan no …_

 _Am I becoming insane?_

Suddenly the eyes of Thomas mixed with the eyes of d'Artagnan. The young man smiled proudly at him, just as his younger brother always had done it, in his younger years.

 _Those eyes Thomas, d'Artagnan stop looking at me with those smiling, no wait, worrying, blaming eyes._

 _I am fine … I only need ..._

 _D'Artagnan where are you? Are you in danger as well?_

 _Anne what have you done? How could you?_

 _I don't want to hear your excuses, your false words._

 _Go away and rot in hell … you have destroyed everything._

 _You lied to me, betrayed me, killed my own brother and now you are begging me for what?_

 _That I shall have mercy for you?_

 _With a liar?_

 _You never loved me._

 _How could I be so blind?_

 _You tricked me … you only wanted my title, my name, my money …_

 _Love … what is that … you have taken everything away from me and now you want my mercy?_

Athos was thrashing in his sleep, moving his feet back and forth and his injured leg started to protest with a sharp pain he suddenly felt in his left leg. He paused. Then a loud moan escaped his lips.

 _Why does it hurt so much?_

 _This pain … it is unbearable …_

"Stop it Athos!"

Porthos laid his hands with a firm grip on both of Athos's legs and his friend stopped the movement. Porthos searched his friend's eyes. He hoped that they would open, that he could see their green colour, probably shimmering from the fever his friend still had, but Athos didn't do him this favour, but at least he stopped hurting himself.

 _I will never trust again …_

 _I will never love ..._

 _My leg … why does my leg hurt so much?_

 _Have you hurt me on purpose …?_

 _Anne … go away … leave me alone …_

 _I need a drink … oh I need it so badly …_

 _I want to forget … why can't I ..._

 _Leave me alone Anne!_

 _Aramis … you ..._

"Aramis … you are a fool … Aramis? I need your help Aramis … I'm so sorry … Aramis!"

Athos suddenly shouted in a loud heartbreaking sob.

"He's here, Athos. I can wake him for you, but he will be grumpy. Oh yes, you are right. He can be a fool sometimes. Do you recall the moment when he climbed out of Adele's window, because the Cardinal wanted to see his mistress. He was glad that we were coming along or he would have probably broken a leg by jumping down onto the street." Porthos softly whispered in Athos' ear and he could feel his friend relaxing a little more. "Or the one time this Duke came to us in the courtyard asking to duel with him, because Aramis had flirted with his daughter. You know this little redhead with one blue and one brown eye. I can still see Tréville shouting at that Duke. It was so funny." Porthos snorted softly, while touching softly Athos' cheeks unsure if he should slap them and wake his brother or not.

 _Porthos is that you …? Talking to me with your calming voice._

Athos breathed in deeply and he relaxed under the gentle touch of his friend, who now had started to stroke some minor tears, which were running down his friend's face, with his thumb gently away.

 _Anne … I never want to see those green eyes again … no wait they are blue ..._

 _A smile of a woman … dark brown hair, bluish eyes and an evil smile._

 _What does this mean?_

 _It was a trap?_

 _Anne has nothing to do with it._

 _My heart is beating too fast._

 _Make it stop, take the pain away from me._

"Porthos? Arghh, why does it hurt so much …?" Athos whimpered.

"Where does it hurt you? Can you show me, _mon ami_?" Porthos softly asked and Athos lifted his left hand and dropped it sluggishly on his chest.

Porthos softly put the now unmoving hand of his friend in his and squeezed it gently. Then he laid it securely next to his brother's chest and felt with his palm Athos' erratic and fast heartbeat.

"Calm, Athos. Breathe in and out, breathe with me."

Porthos made some more comments and he could feel how Athos' breathing was changing and his heartbeat which he could still feel under his palm slowed down again. "That's it." He smiled at his brother, still trying to search his eyes and he hoped that he could see them opening, but the lids were still closed. "Are you with me now, Athos? Are you awake? Can you hear me?" Porthos softly asked, but no answer.

 _Help d'Artagnan he is in danger ..._

 _My brother is dead, my little brother, whom I watched growing, who was the favourite of my parents, who was everybody's darling. He was so kind, so vulnerable, so fragile … each winter he had to fight with a cold … so many times he dropped from his horse and broke an arm or a rip ..._

 _You have to take care of him, Olivier._

 _Mother … why can I hear you … why …_

 _I have failed you … all of you._

 _I am so sorry Thomas?_

 _I wish I could …_

 _Those eyes … all those eyes … my father's, my mother's, my brother's they are blaming me, accusing me …_

 _Stop it, please._

 _I can't take it anymore._

 _When will it ever stop?_

 _Anne … what have you done?_

 _How can I ever forgive you?_

 _I need to judge you … my own wife …_

 _I can't …_

 _Why is it so hot?_

 _Why do I feel so alone?_

 _Those green eyes … they are haunting me …_

 _Anne … what did you do?_

"Noooo! Aramis!" Athos screamed again in his dream and Porthos was already jumping out of the chair.

 _I can't wait any longer. It's obvious that you need Aramis. What's going on between the both of you? Since … since that nearly fatal day in the convent … Something has happened. I need to find out._

"Aramis! Wake up! He needs you!" Porthos softly called over to his other sleeping friend.

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 ** _Please tell me what you think about it. Thank you xx Kira_**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Thank you for reading and leaving a comment. To those I cannot respond personally:**_

To Doubtful Guest to ch 14:

Thank you for your kind words regarding Tréville, I see him like that.

To Beeblegirl to ch 15:

You are welcome. I really try to move on with this story but suddenly the plot wants to pull me in another direction and I have no idea how that happened. So the story will be a little longer than I expected and I will need more time to write and finish it.

Thank you for your lovely words. Oh yes, I like those brotherly stories too, I only hope that I write our guys in character ;-)

 _ **Here is the next part.**_ _ **Enjoy!**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Milady / The letter Part 2**

Aramis woke from a loud noise. He jumped out of the bed and reached for his pistol.

"Easy, easy." He heard Porthos deep rumbling voice.

"What?" Aramis blinked several times to adjust his eyes to the warm candle light which enlightened the infirmary in a yellow-reddish light.

"Athos has a nightmare and he's talking, well actually screaming in his sleep. He's asking for you."

"Is his fever high again?" Aramis asked anxiously. He put his weapon down and moved nearer to his patient.

"Nooo …" Athos moaned.

"No, a little warm, but much better." Porthos tried to calm Aramis, but the medic nevertheless had to check on his own. With his palm he gently swiped over Athos' forehead.

"You are right, Porthos." He smiled.

"Told you so, nevertheless he has a nasty nightmare. If I have to guess I'd say it was about Milady, again." He sighed.

"No wonder after such a stressful day for him." Aramis mused. "We should try to wake him, make him drink more broth and hope that he will fall in a more restful sleep afterwards." Aramis stated, while gently putting his hand on Athos' shoulder.

"Believe me, I tried, but he is in a really deep sleep." Porthos sighed. "If we really want to wake him I think we need to slap at his cheeks and I don't want to hurt him furthermore. It's enough Aramis."

Porthos told the medic. His brown eyes full of concern and Aramis could see that Porthos was fighting with his own emotions. Athos sighed in his sleep. He had stopped talking. Aramis' hand on his shoulder seemed to calm him a little.

"Maybe you are right." Aramis answered slowly. Then he changed the subject.

"Have you found the letter?" He asked curiously.

"I'm afraid we haven't."

Porthos quietly told Aramis what they had discovered making sure that Athos wouldn't wake up and hear him talking, but his friend was still out cold.

"So the Captain is now returning with d'Artagnan to _Chateau de Fontainebleau_ to find out what the message contained and if there are any immediate dangers for our King, Queen or Athos." Porthos completed then he yawned loudly.

"You should rest now, try to sleep, it's nearly dawning. I will take over." Aramis told the streetfighter, who yawned again.

"I think you are right, I need some sleep, but wake me if you need me."

"I will do. Promise."

He smiled at his tired friend, who now lay down at another bed and fell asleep at once. Soon he could hear Porthos deep breathing that changed after several minutes into a soft snoring. He turned his attention back to his patient, who was softly whimpering.

"Shh … Athos, you will be fine. You are safe." He quietly talked in his patient's ear. Then he grabbed another wet cloth and laid it back on Athos now warm forehead.

"That feels good." Athos mumbled.

"Are you awake?" Aramis asked cautiously, not sure if Athos was still talking in his sleep.

"Well, if I speak with you, I should be," came the low, but stoic response of his brother.

Aramis had to smile. Athos' dry humour was back, definitely a sign, that he was on the mend.

"How do you feel?" He asked him.

"Like I have fought against the three of you in a swordfight. One against three, not very fair." He smiled. "To be honest, I feel like a weak foal, too weak to do anything on my own and I had another horrible nightmare." He sighed.

"It is normal that you feel weak. Your body just fought a high fever."

"I thought I wouldn't pull through." Athos told him barely audible. "But I didn't want to let go … I can't leave you alone."

He tried to smile, but the small hint on his lips disappeared at once. He coughed and tried to catch for breath.

Aramis helped to raise his upper body by putting some more pillows in his back, while he softly clapped it until the cough of his friend eased.

"Here drink!" Aramis passed Athos a cup with broth and his friend took it in his right hand and drank it slowly."

"Thank you." He told Aramis when he gave him the cup back. His hand was slightly trembling, but much better than hours before.

"You want to talk about it?" Aramis asked him.

"What …?" Athos looked at him confused.

"Your nightmare … you know if you talk about it, it can help, that it won't reappear the next time you are sleeping."

Athos sighed.

"I guess I have no choice but telling it." He looked into Aramis concerned brown eyes.

"You know that you don't have to." Aramis chided him softly.

"I know, but you will throw me those famous glances with your worried eyes until I am opening up to you and telling it to you."

"You know me too well, _mon ami_." Aramis joked and sat next to him on the chair. "Well, I am ready to listen."

"It's nothing that I've never told you about. Still the same dream. Anne killing Thomas and me …" Athos paused and gulped heavily.

"I wish I could take those memories away from you." Aramis pressed his friend's shoulder.

"Do you think I made a mistake in letting her go? Do you think I should have let her be arrested?" Athos quietly asked him.

"Who can tell us, if our actions in one moment are right or wrong? Sometimes we have to decide in the blink of an eye. You know that Athos."

"That's not an answer." Athos commented drily.

"I am glad that you didn't kill her with your sword, if that's what you want to hear, but I know that you are glad too … so why are you thinking about it. It is an action that lies in the past. She left and I doubt that she will return to Paris." Aramis smiled.

"I blame love … I should have never fallen in love with her … my love, my arrogant and selfish desire destroyed everything."

"How so?"

"I will never love again, Aramis. At that chateau there was a young woman, she looked similar to Anne, but had not her green eyes, but bright blue. Her dark hair, her beautiful face, her self-confidence, reminded me a lot of Anne."

"Maybe that's why you have dreamed of her right now." Aramis mused.

"Hmm … probably." Athos sighed and pressed his head deeper in his soft pillows.

Aramis who noticed that Athos was sleepy again already wanted to help to remove the pillows, but Athos stopped him with his hand.

"Don't. I want to stay awake a little longer. Talking to you is better than those horrible nightmares."

"You should try to sleep! Your body needs the rest!" Aramis protested.

"I think my huge problem is that I still love her …" Athos told him suddenly. " … and it has nearly killed me and it probably will one day …" He paused. "That's why … I didn't want …"

He heard Porthos soft snoring and paused. Aramis looked confused at him.

"Stop blaming yourself. Love is a gift from God." He smiled and pressed his shoulder.

"Ha … I doubt that … moreover from the devil who wants to gain power over us and it works."

"Stop talking nonsense." Aramis now chided Athos. "Do you think that the love Porthos ..." he showed with his finger on their sleeping friend "... or d'Artagnan have for you … is something bad."

"No, … I didn't mean that." Athos tried to object.

"Athos you are loved and you give your love back to us. That's why we are friends … that's why we take care of each other."

"And once again I've failed … I have failed you." Athos sighed, fighting against some tears now welling up in his eyes.

Aramis stared in horror at his friend.

"I don't understand … you haven't failed me … what are you talking about? … How could you think ..." He drew his hand over his face. "That's why you wanted me to go away … because you thought you have failed me …?" He looked confused at Athos and the swordsman looked through tears now at his friend.

"I never said that … I … What makes you think …?"

Athos tried to protest, confused about Aramis' reaction and not sure what he was referring at as he now saw tears running over Aramis' face. His mind was still too clouded to make the link about Aramis' misunderstanding.

Both stared at each other in the dim candle light for a while.

"Would the both of you stop with this nonsense, right now?"

Athos and Aramis jumped startled by the loud voice coming from Porthos who was now wide awake, stood up from the bed and stared unbelievingly at the both of them his arms pressed at his hips.

"Stop arguing?" He told them in an angry voice.

"We're not arguing." Aramis and Athos protested at the same time.

"No? It sounded differently." Porthos snorted. "Athos I am glad that you are awake and that you are much better, but you should sleep now it's still in the middle of the night and Aramis go out and get some fresh air." He ordered in an angry voice.

"Can he stay?" Athos asked quietly and looked with a sheepish look at Porthos.

"If you want me to stay, of course, I won't go anywhere. I told you before in the wagon."

Aramis grinned at Porthos and then he looked back at Athos. "But you know Athos, Porthos is right, you ought to sleep. You still look pale." He added softly.

"I'm sorry." Athos mumbled.

"Would you please stop apologising." Porthos asked now more softly.

"But if I am." Athos mumbled.

He felt Aramis' hands in his back guiding his head gently down on the mattress and exhaustedly he closed his eyes.

"Oh, before I forget, have you found the letter?" Athos asked.

Before his friends could answer him he had fallen asleep again.

"Guess we have to tell him the next time." Aramis sighed.

"Oh yes." Porthos murmured. "But for now I am glad that he fell asleep, before we could tell him.


	17. Chapter 17

**_Hey there,_** ** _thank you so much for reading and of course your lovely reviews. This part should be named Milady or the letter part 3, but I kind of find that the headline doesn't fit anymore. So let me introduce you to Don Fernando._**

 ** _Many thanks to my beta Beth for proofing this chapter, all remaining mistakes are mine not hers._**

 ** _Enjoy and tell me what you think about it. Thank you!_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Don Fernando**

By dawn Tréville and d'Artagnan were back on their horses and reached _Chateau de_ _Fontainebleau_ in the early morning hours. As they finally reached the huge palace in which King Louis was born and which he was using now for guests or hunting parties, d'Artagnan was speechless. The castle was impressive.

Tréville had to smile inwardly as he observed the wide open eyes of his young Musketeer who looked stunned at the palace.

"I thought _le Louvre_ in Paris was big, but this castle here." D'Artagnan mumbled more to himself than to Tréville.

"It is your first time that you've been here, Athos should have taken you with him, so that you became familiar with all the royal castles near Paris." Tréville softly answered and regretted his words at once as he noticed d'Artagnan's mood darkening.

"Yes, he shouldn't have gone on his own, but he can be stubborn." D'Artagnan sighed and hoped that Athos was by now much better.

They crossed a long alley and finally reached the main entrance. A staircase in the form of a horseshoe with stairs on the left and the right side, which both led to the main entrance door, was welcoming them.

They both dismounted at the bottom of the stairs and a page hurried down to greet them.

"How can I help you?" The page asked, looking curiously at the two men in their blue uniforms.

"My name is Tréville, Captain of the Musketeers and this is one of my soldiers," Tréville pointed with his left hand to d'Artagnan, "we wanted to talk to Don Fernando, on an urgent matter." Tréville explained his request.

"I'm sorry, but the Don is still asleep. He usually has a late breakfast at around nine o'clock." The page explained. "And I don't dare to wake him."

"I am sorry that we have to disturb him at this early morning hour." Tréville smiled back. "But as a guest of our King in his castle we have to insist that we speak to him now. We have a direct order by King Louis." He added politely.

"Wait here I will see what I can do." The page bowed his upper body understandingly and hurried away.

"Do we really have a direct order from the King?" D'Artagnan asked astonished.

Tréville smiled at him:

"Sometimes we have to come up with these formal excuses to reach our goal. We don't have the time to wait three hours d'Artagnan and if the letter is really addressed to the King with important news then we need to know as soon as possible. So, yes we are here by direct order of the King." Tréville added.

"Who is this Don Fernando?" D'Artagnan wanted to know, while he stared at the door which the page had closed again behind him.

"Don Fernando de Borja y Aragón is a Spanish nobleman and related to Queen Anne. But I don't know how closely. Right now he is the guest of our King. He is travelling with his niece from Spain over France to Italy. His Majesty has invited him to stay at _Chateau de Fontainebleau_ as long as they want to stay and Queen Anne's letter, which Athos had delivered, was directed at his niece. So I assume that he will have received this second letter from Don Fernando to take it back to the palace."

"Has Athos told you that?"

"No, I had no time to ask him. His health was my first priority, but Don Fernando was in earlier days the Spanish ambassador to Savoy, later to Florence and Rome, too. He still has good connections to the Court of Savoy, so I assume that the letter has something to do with Savoy."

"But you are only guessing." D'Artagnan looked kind of puzzled at his Captain.

"Yes, d'Artagnan, I admit it, I am only guessing, but right now the Don is the only royal guest here with enough political influence who could send such an important message or letter to our Queen or King. When people are willing to kill for this letter it must be an important message that never should reach _Le Louvre_." Tréville added.

"You are talking like Athos." D'Artagnan suddenly grinned.

"What do you mean? Has he told you something about the letter?" Tréville looked slightly confused at the young Gascon.

"No, er … sorry Captain, I mean … you're strategically thinking ... you are very alike sometimes."

"Oh …" Tréville said a little astonished. "Believe me he's the better of us. That's why I made him my Lieutenant. I am not very fond of paperwork but he is very good at it, so I use him, like I use you all."

Tréville winked at d'Artagnan and the latter was again puzzled by his Captain's humour this morning. He had expected him to be his gruff usual self but the worry for Athos made the old fox appear softer towards d'Artagnan.

They were both overtired and strained. D'Artagnan could sense that Tréville was as worried as he was for his friend and mentor and wished to be back in the saddle on the route to Paris sooner rather than later.

The young man started to walk from one side of the upper steps to the other, standing still. Waiting wasn't the right thing for him now and Tréville let him be. His thoughts wandered back to the letter. During their ride to the Chateau he had thought a lot about the possible message.

 _Had the Don written to King Louis or Queen Anne regarding Savoy, but why? They had their own spy in Savoy? Did he want to inform Queen Anne about something very secretive that her brother the King of Spain had advised his confidant and trustworthy Duke or better still Don Fernando to deliver. Perhaps the Duke had told Athos that the letter was very important and maybe Athos had asked Aramis to take it to the Queen - perhaps because his mother was Spanish or because he survived Savoy …_

The Captain sighed deeply.

 _This is ridiculous. He asked Aramis because … because he was treating his wounds and was next to him. I should tell d'Artagnan that he should stop pacing … he is making me nervous. I simply have to be patient and ask the Don to write a second letter, if he doesn't want to tell me what he has written to the Queen or the King or …_

Tréville was driven out of his thoughts as the door was opened again and a thin, but tall man appeared at the door. He was about fifty, already had grey hair and dark, intelligent eyes scanned him. The man had a peaked nose which made his facial expression strict.

"Please, come in, I have to excuse the page for not inviting two Musketeers of the King into the King's own chateau." He smiled with a treacherous look into Tréville's pale blue eyes and the Captain of the Musketeers felt that he should be careful with this man.

"On the contrary, I have to apologise for bothering you Don Fernando, at this early morning hour, but I have an important request, which cannot wait."

Tréville followed the Spanish Duke. The sooner he could talk to him, the faster he could write a new letter and they could head back to _Le Louvre_ and the garrison.

"Please, come in, I am sure that both of you haven't had breakfast yet. Let's sit down in the dining room and discuss your urgent matter while eating."

The Spanish Duke insisted and made a friendly gesture that they should follow him. D'Artagnan looked over to Tréville who simply nodded slightly annoyed about the time delay, but considered that perhaps the message the letter had contained would be better discussed in private than in front of the castle, where everybody could see and listen to their talk.

As they entered two other pages appeared and one of them stepped directly in front of d'Artagnan:

"This is a peaceful place. I have to ask you to remove all of your weapons." The young man demanded.

D'Artagnan turned his head around to his Captain. The Captain of the Musketeers was not amused about this request and before d'Artagnan could say anything he answered for both of them, ignoring the page, but addressing Don Fernando directly.

"Your men are aware that they are not in Spain but guests in a royal palace of the King of France and that we are serving our King?"

Tréville asked with an angry voice which informed the French nobleman that the Captain of the Musketeers was in charge.

"I have to apologise for my men." The Spanish Comte slightly bowed his head but it was obvious that he wasn't satisfied with Captain Tréville's explanation. "We are guests here, Juan!" He addressed his own man who wore a sword for himself. Then he turned his head back to Tréville and d'Artagnan while only looking into Tréville's blue eyes. "It is kind of a habit that I developed during my days as an ambassador that I ask people who come to visit me to leave their weapons at the entrance of my home, but of course as soldiers of the French King you are allowed to do as you please."

"We are in a hurry and the faster we can leave here the better. Be assured that we have no intention of threatening you, your family or your men with our weapons."

Tréville managed a small smile on his lips to ease the situation.

"So keep your weapons, we'll sit down to breakfast and then you can tell me why the Captain of the Musketeers himself comes so early in the morning to speak to me. It must be something very important and I wonder how I or even Spain can help you?" Don Fernando said in a moderate tone.

 _The born diplomate …_

Tréville snorted, not sure what he should do with this very intelligent man, who was hard to read and he wasn't sure what a Spanish Court member was actually doing in _Chateau de Fontainebleau_ either.

 _Is he here on a secret mission for the Spanish King? The letter Athos had to deliver was from the Queen not from Louis. Has she written to her brother after Richelieu tried to assassinate her? Does she want to leave France with her still unborn child, because she fears for the safety of herself and her child?_

Tréville tried to ignore these now burning questions and told himself to concentrate more on how the Comte would react, when he revealed to him, that his important letter back to the palace had been stolen.

D'Artagnan remained quiet the whole time, he followed Tréville and the Spanish nobleman through several high and richly decorated rooms, scanning each corner for a possible threat because he did not feel welcome. His instincts told him to be careful regarding this Spanish man and his valets.

Finally they reached the dining room and Don Fernando invited them to take their seats. Several servants appeared at once bringing hot tea, delicious fresh bread and several other typical French foods.

"So, Captain," Don Fernando had just sipped at his still hot tea, while neither the Captain nor d'Artagnan had touched the food yet, "what do you want to know from me?"

Tréville thought how he should start but then he decided to name the reason why they had come at once.

"Yesterday my Lieutenant was asked to deliver a letter from here back to the palace, but on his way back he was attacked and severely wounded and we believe that the letter was stolen. Alas I couldn't ask him yet, if he knew about any details of the content of the letter. I only know that he should have delivered the message to the Queen. I have to believe that a very important message was written in it and that whoever took the letter is now in the knowledge of ... perhaps … let's say secret news for the King or Queen of France."

Don Fernando put down his tea cup and looked into Tréville's concerned blue eyes.

"I am sorry to hear about your solider. Yes, I remember that yesterday one of your Musketeers arrived here to deliver a letter from Queen Anne to my niece, but I didn't give him a letter back either to Queen Anne nor King Louis. I hope your man will recover." Don Fernando told Tréville.

The Captain of the Musketeers now looked a little helpless at the Spanish nobleman.

 _So all my assumptions have been wrong?_

Before he could answer he heard d'Artagnan's voice in the background.

"Thank you very much for your wishes for our Lieutenant, Don Fernando. If you didn't give him a letter, perhaps someone else who is staying as a guest here at the Chateau right now gave it to him?"

"I am afraid we are the only guests right now."

"What are you doing here, if I might ask?" Tréville now wanted to know.

"Oh, I am not on an official mission, Captain, if you think that. Actually I'm accompanying my niece to Italy where she is going to marry her fiancée. My older brother had no time to go with her and he asked me to accompany her. Queen Anne invited us to stay for several days here on our way."

"How long will you stay?" Tréville was still trying to figure out if Don Fernando was lying to them or not.

 _But what reason would he have to lie about a letter?_

"Actually we want to continue our travels tomorrow. We have stayed now for over a week and I am expected back in Spain within a month, so it wouldn't be wise to stay longer. I am looking forward to return to this beautiful castle several more days on my way back."

"So, if you haven't written a letter. Could it be that your niece has written a letter to the Queen? Maybe a response to the letter that she'd sent to her?" D'Artagnan asked curiously.

"Of course, that would be possible." The Comte exclaimed. "I will ask her, but she won't be up for the next two hours. She's not a morning person, if you know what I mean."

Tréville smiled at Don Fernando, while trying to stay calm.

"I am afraid we won't have the time to wait that long. I have to insist that we must talk to her earlier." Tréville suddenly said in a sharp tone and for a moment d'Artagnan thought the air would stand still in the whole room.

The Spanish nobelman angrily glared at the Captain of the Musketeers.

"I can assure you, that my niece wouldn't send any messages of vital importance to the Queen through one of your Musketeers. He's obviously not a very good soldier otherwise he wouldn't have lost the letter."

Tréville angrily stood up with so much force that the wooden chair he had been sitting on crashed with a loud thud on the floor. He ignored it to answer Don Fernando regarding his Lieutenant. He felt his hot face burning slowly and he knew that it must appear reddish by now. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that d'Artagnan was now standing too. Not sure how to react, but very alert and ready to draw his sword or pistol anytime. The two servants who had waited in a respectful distance near to the door came nearer to the table and one of the Spanish valets was ready to draw his sword as well.

"Gentleman, I think we should all calm down."

The Comte made no attempt to stand up, but went for a piece of cheese instead which he chewed slowly, while ignoring the fact that Tréville was staring at him with cold blue eyes.

After he had finished eating this part of his breakfast Don Fernando addressed Tréville again:

"As you demand, I will go and ask her to come down. Perhaps it would be better if you wait in the entrance hall, it will take her some time to get dressed."

"Very well!" Tréville answered suppressing his ire he felt suddenly against the French nobleman. "But we won't wait very long. As I told you before this message could have an important meaning for our Queen and King, so it is our duty to investigate and I warn you one more disrespectful word against one of my men and I will ask you to leave at once." Tréville added in an icy voice.

 _I doubt that I have this much power, but Don Fernando should know that he is still a guest in one of our King's palaces and I don't like his pretentious behaviour._

D'Artagnan followed slowly behind his Captain and had to grin inwardly.

 _The typical Gascon proud, you don't start to insult the men of our Captain_.

For a short moment the young man thought that Athos would have been calmer and more reserved than his Captain, but he was glad that Tréville had shown this thwarted Spaniard his boundaries.

Don Fernando and his men disappeared after Tréville and d'Artagnan had re-entered the huge entrance hall and d'Artagnan mused aloud.

"Do you think he has told us the truth?"

"I don't know d'Artagnan, but we should discuss this outside. I fear these walls have ears."

D'Artagnan nodded silently. Tréville turned to him and said in a quiet tone.

"We'd better prepare to leave as soon as possible. I have a bad feeling about this whole issue." Tréville suddenly advised his soldier. "I am not sure if we will get any answers we are looking for, but be alert, d'Artagnan."

He whispered, while now starting to pace himself from one end of the hall to the other, while the young Gascon stood very still and observed the valet with the name Juan, watching them from the distance. He had no idea what he should think of Don Fernando. The Spanish nobleman reminded him more of a spoiled child and arrogant person, who liked to play around with words and put himself into the center, but this quiet man with a large scar on his left cheek probably from a sharp knife or main gauge, his staring brown eyes, which reminded him of the eyes of an insane dog made d'Artagnan more watchful and alert. This man was not a simple valet, but a soldier as well.

 _In which trap did you walk into here Athos?_ The Gascon wondered silently.

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 **Note:**

Don Fernando de Borja y Aragón was a Spanish nobelman who worked for the King in Spain. I doubt that he ever visited Chateau de Fontainebleau and I have found no information if he actually had a niece, but I couldn't find any notes about a daughter either. He lived during the time of our Musketeers. All other facts, besides that he was ambassador I have invented.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Thank you for reading my last chapter.**_

 _ **I love your comments to this chapter. Thank you so much.**_

 _ **Hmm ... what's this letter about?**_

 _ **Will we find out in this chapter?**_

 _ **Thank you so much to Beth for proofing my text.**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Infirmary – Part 1**

The first rays of sun conquered the small infirmary of the garrison, searching its ways through the small window next to Athos' bed and cast their light on the latter's face. Aramis observed his friend closely. His pale skin was even paler, the freckles around his cheeks nearly vanished. At least his forehead wasn't shimmering any longer from sweat and the very high fever, which he had had during the night, was finally gone.

 _It was close, nearly too close. I should have been with you, Athos. I understand why you are angry with me. Believe me I blame myself hard enough. If I only could turn back time … but you will live and we have all the time of the world to settle this again. Whatever it is ..._

 _Porthos is right you need rest first. How can I tell you about the missing letter without upsetting you any further? You will ask … when you wake up you will ask me again. Shall I ask Porthos to tell you? No that's childish … I will find the right words._

Absent mindly Aramis straightened himself on his chair and with his cold hand he checked Athos' cooler forehead. For a moment he let it rest there, then he gently stroked over his friend's hair, needing the touch to ensure himself that his friend was finally on the road to recovery.

 _At least your horrible nightmares haven't returned for the past hours. See it was good that you could tell me about them._

Athos moaned softly but continued to sleep and Aramis busied himself in arranging the white linen over his friend's body anew which had slipped a little when Athos had turned in his sleep.

After their short talk during the night Porthos had returned to the other bed next to Athos' and had continued to sleep. It was somehow a deep sign of their friendship that the street fighter's hand had found its way onto Athos' left shoulder, where he had rested his palm protectively in order to be able to sense with his hand if his brother was feeling unwell or if he woke up from a nightmare again. Right now Aramis only could hear Porthos' loud snoring. The sound somehow comforted him and gave him the feeling that everything would be alright again.

 _Who has done this to you? Who wants to see you dead? Is it really all about the letter? Or is there something else going on? Who were these people who attacked you?_

For the first times in hours Aramis could finally think about what had occurred the previous day. The several hours of sleep had helped him to rest a little, but they all were still exhausted.

 _Have Tréville and d'Artagnan already reached Chateau de Fontainebleau? Probably, if they were riding through the night, but even if they paused somewhere they should be there by now. I am curious what they will report back. I am glad that Tréville hadn't gone on his own. Our Captain was really concerned as he left ..._

Aramis dropped down again on his chair. The wooden chair next to Athos' bed wasn't very comfortable, even with some soft pillows and a warm blanket in which the medic had wrapped himself into hours earlier, but it had helped him to stay awake, listening to Athos soft breathing - the only indication for him in the darkness, after the candles had finally burned down - that Athos was better. He hadn't wanted to risk the possibility that Athos would wake up from the sound if he got up again and so he hadn't dared to light new candles.

A loud sound from Porthos rumbling stomach told the medic that they needed something prepared or brought to them to eat soon. Several minutes later Porthos opened his tired eyes, blinked several times and turned then his head to Aramis, who was sitting in the sunlight now as well.

"Good morning." He whispered softly while checking with his eyes on Athos' sleeping form and patting softly his shoulder. "Has he woken again?" He added in a quiet voice.

"No, he has slept the whole time through without any indication of new nightmares." Aramis smiled at him. "The fever is finally down."

"He will be hungry when he wakes up. I will go to the kitchen and ask Serge for some breakfast and I will have a look to see if the new doctor has arrived yet."

Porthos stood up and stretched his arms into the air. He needed to move, to breathe some fresh air and most of all he needed to do something. Waiting in an infirmary for his friend to wake up was never a thing he was really fond of doing.

"I will be back in fifteen minutes or so and then I will relieve you, you look overtired and you need some more sleep, Aramis."

The medic only nodded while standing up for himself.

"While you are away I will check on Athos' bandage and wound, better to do that while he is still sleeping." He softly answered, whilst already removing the thin blanket that covered Athos whole body.

Porthos left and Aramis hurried to retrieve the bandage from Athos' thigh. He checked the healing wound which was still reddish but he couldn't see any signs of pus. It matched the fact that Athos' fever was down. Gently he put some new honey salve on the wounded skin and put on a new bandage which he fastened tightly around his leg. As soon as he had finished he noticed Athos stirring and he watched his brother finding his way back to

consciousness and the morning light.

Slowly Athos first opened his right eye, but he closed it at once, only to protect his face with his right hand. The sunrays were blinding him. Aramis hurried and closed the window with a small curtain so that less sunlight came into the infirmary and Athos' face was in the shadows again.

"I am sorry my friend, I should have known that the sun is too bright for your eyes."

He walked back next to Athos, who now had managed to open both of his eyes. In the dim light he searched for Aramis' eyes and before he could ask for some water Aramis had already pressed a cup in his hand.

 _Aramis, is that you? Ahhh … my eyes … yes, that's much better ... Where am I? … Those sounds … those smells … Wait, the infirmary of the garrison. Why? Oh yes, I was injured by that stupid arrow … but they found me and brought me back … Why do I feel so exhausted? … So spent? … I … Maybe I should ask Aramis … if he is standing next to me my injury wasn't quite simple but something more dangerous … I must have scared him … them … wait where are the others … Porthos, d'Artagnan. They're probably resting in their rooms … I hope they are in no danger ..._

 _Why can't I remember how I end up here? My throat feels like fire … I need water … Well, I'll have to ask Aramis._

"Here, drink!"

The medic ordered and without saying anything Athos followed his brother's advice. The cool water felt good on his throat yet Aramis had the impression that his friend was still confused.

"How are you?" Athos heard Aramis' soft voice and he wasn't sure if he should answer that question sincerely.

"I think I'm much better than yesterday." He cautiously stated hearing himself croaking.

"Drink some more. Your voice will come back." Aramis poured some more water in his cup.

"How did I end up here, Aramis? I remember that I was hit by an arrow in my leg, but after that I only recall that you found me. Am I severely wounded?"

Athos asked while blinking with his eyes several times. He had finally decided to tell his friend that he was confused.

Aramis dropped back on the chair next to Athos' head and gently put his hand on his friend's arm, after he had retrieved the cup from him.

 _So he is still confused and his memory is playing tricks on his mind. Maybe it's better that he doesn't recall our little argument during the night._

"Your wound was infected and the doctor had to remove some pus. You had a very high fever during the night, but it's dropped now, probably that's why you don't recall everything. I am sure it will come back to you. Give it time."

Aramis answered while his mind was racing and he wondered if they had missed another wound, maybe a head wound to take care of, but he had checked his friend's head for bumps or lacerations.

Athos nodded softly and closed his eyes again.

"Perhaps it's best if you try to sleep a little longer." Aramis suggested and squeezed Athos' arm softly.

"Where are Porthos and d'Artagnan?" The swordsman asked suddenly.

Finally so used that they would be somewhere around him and not moving, when he was injured. Sometimes this could be annoying and even if he never said that out aloud, he really appreciated these small gestures that they really cared for him.

"Porthos is in the kitchen asking Serge for some breakfast. He has woken after being next to you all night long and when he woke he was pretty hungry. You know him." Aramis grinned. "So he offered to fetch some food for you, something more substantial than hot broth and he wanted to wait for the doctor who told us that he would return this morning to check you over again." Aramis explained, still thinking what he should tell Athos about d'Artagnan's whereabouts.

"A doctor?"

"Yes, I told you earlier. Doctor Lemay was here last evening and treated your wound."

"I don't need a doctor, Aramis, I am sure that you can treat my wound as good as him or even better. No need to send for him again. You can send the doctor back to the palace. I am fine." Athos stated with a firm voice opening his eyes again and pleading to his friend.

Aramis had to smile inwardly, but it was a grim smile. He knew his brother too well. Of course Athos didn't like it when he was examined by a doctor.

 _Fine, Athos? You are anything but fine, if you can't recall what happened during the night or yesterday. I prefer that the doctor roughly checks you over again. This seizure was not funny and a second opinion about a possible head injury or the healing of your thigh wouldn't be bad._

"Doctor Lemay offered his help and he seems to be a good doctor, so why don't you allow him to check you over, again, Athos?" He chided him softly. "You nearly died yesterday and he helped me with treating your wound." He added with a concerned voice. "So I really would appreciate it if the doctor can assure us that your wound is healing properly and that there is no chance of a setback regarding your healing." Aramis said.

Athos could hear the tension in Aramis voice and he nodded softly.

 _So it was earnest. I had to fight for my life. No wonder Aramis looks so distressed. I wish he wouldn't worry that much. I need to calm him. Best way to cooperate then._

"Very well, he can check me over, but I am really better, Aramis. No need to worry."

"You know me, _mon ami_ , I am always worried."

Aramis tried to joke, but he felt the lump in his own throat as he recalled the previous day: Athos lying in his arms on the wagon barely conscious and screaming in pain.

Athos who sensed the sudden change in Aramis mood and still a little shocked by the words that he'd nearly died tried to calm him.

"I am sorry." Athos sighed out loud and searched Aramis' eyes, which were glistening treacherous.

"You have no reason to be." Aramis answered quietly, while his hands played with the white sheet Athos was still wrapped in.

An awkward silence settled between them while Athos tried hard to remember what had happened the previous day.

 _I had been on a mission for the Queen. I brought a friend of hers a letter and then I went a different way back to the garrison because it was a beautiful day and then … I was shot at. My leg suddenly was in intense pain and Roger brought me back? No wait, I couldn't continue to ride any further, so I tried to reach that tree on the meadow near to the garrison. But what happened afterwards? Why can't I remember?_

 _Aramis … suddenly he was there … he treated my wound … he saved me … but where was he before that? Was he with me delivering the letter? Or was d'Artagnan with me? Why can't I remember who was with me on that mission?_

"Where is d'Artagnan?" Athos suddenly asked, looking around the infirmary to see if he was sleeping in one of the other beds.

"He's on a mission with Captain Tréville and will be back around noon." Aramis answered cautiously. Still not sure what Athos could remember.

"On a mission? What kind of mission?"

"To find out who did this to you?" Aramis softly explained pointing at his injured leg.

The medic didn't really want to say anything about the letter and he hoped that his friend had somehow forgotten about it.

"Who did this to me? ... Oh, you mean who shot at me?" Athos asked in a slurred voice and then answered his own question before becoming silent again. Trying hard to remember why someone would shoot at him.

 _Milady isn't in Paris or France any longer, so it can't be her. Or is she? ... But who else should try to kill me? Of course as a Musketeer I am always at the risk of being attacked. Wait? Was I on my own when I rode to the Chateau? And why? Wouldn't there be some of the others with me. If not Aramis then d'Artagnan? Was he with me? Was he maybe injured as well or captured and Aramis doesn't want to tell me to not upset me … I need to know? Why can't I recall …?_

Athos felt a sudden pain in his head, which had been dull for the last minutes, but the more he tried to think about what had happened the other day, the more intense the pain became. Instinctively he went with his right hand to the spot on his forehead and massaged it. He squeezed his eyes shut again and groaned as the pain really started to bother him.

 _"_ _Athos? Are you alright?"_ He heard Aramis' voice slightly in the background as he tried to breathe in and out more calmly to get rid of the aching pain that emerged from his forehead, pressing now both hands on it.

 _What's wrong with me? Why is my head hurting like Porthos had punched me on my temple? Has he … ?_

"Athos?" Aramis gently grabbed both of his hands and pulled them away from his head. "Are you in pain? Is it your head? Is your forehead hot again?"

"I don't ... know ..." Athos slurred. "... my head … sudden … ly … hurts ... so much." He panted.

 _Not good when he admits that he is in pain …_ Aramis sighed.

Aramis observed his friend critically while he softly touched his forehead with his palm to check for any signs of a new high fever, but Athos' skin was only slightly warm. Athos' eyes wandered up to his friend and he could see his pleading look asking without words for help. Around his dark irises and the green colour, Aramis noticed that his eyes looked red rimmed.

Athos leaned his forehead into his friend's palm, seeking its coolness and closed his eyes again.

"No fever, only a raised temperature, but that's normal, for what your body had to endure. I will give you a draught against the pain. Do you recall that you somehow hit your head? Maybe as you had to descend from Roger?" He softly asked.

"I don't recall anything, Aramis." Athos groaned again and tried to sink deeper in his soft pillow, his eyes still closed.

"May I?"

Aramis softly asked but didn't wait for an answer as he already checked with his hands Athos' thick hair again, scratching carefully over his friend's scalp wondering if he had missed a bump the day before in all the hectic. Athos' thick hair could easily hide an injury, but to his great relief he couldn't find anything.

He stroked gently over Athos' hair after he had finished his examination to calm his distressed friend. Then his hand came in contact with Athos' nape and the latter flinched. Aramis could feel the heat emanating from the skin.

"I haven't checked your nape maybe the sun has burned your skin there?" He told Athos, who was only half listening. With his mouth wide open he tried to breath against the pain.

 _Make it stop Aramis … make it simply stop … this pain is unbearable and the more I try to think … the more it hurts._

Gently the medic lifted the collar of Athos' shirt and after he had lifted his friend's head, which the latter simply endured hoping that Aramis would find the source of his pain, the medic whistled shortly through his teeth.

"Your skin is pretty burned here. Looks like you have a sun burn. It is red and I can see some blisters. I will put on the spot some salve, but first I will give you the pain draught and then I will cool your skin down. A wet cloth on your nape and another on your forehead should help you to ease the headache. I'm sorry that I didn't see that yesterday." Aramis apologised.

"I think you had other matters to deal with." Athos answered through his gritted teeth. "Believe me … I am glad for your help but I have to admit that it really hurts ..." He sighed. "I'm sorry that I'm such a burden for you …"

"You are not a burden, Athos. I'm glad that we found you and that you are much better than yesterday. So stop talking nonsense. Will you, please."

 _But I feel like a burden. I hate lying here like this: so poorly and miserable. I am not able to take care of myself … you have to help me Aramis. You barely slept last night. I can see it in your eyes. It is plastered all over your face and yet you are calm and supportive ..._

Aramis tried to look into his friend's eyes, but they were still closed.

"Rest, I will be back in a minute."

With this said he placed a cool washcloth on Athos' forehead and the swordsman immediately put his left hand on it and pressed it again on the spots that hurt the most. Hoping that this way the pain would subside.

Aramis let him be for a moment and busied himself to prepare the pain draught. Then he pressed the cup against Athos' lips, who felt the coolness and half opened his mouth.

"Here, drink! All of it, it will help you. Your headache could have been caused by the sun. You were exposed to its heat for at least over an hour and it was really hot yesterday. After the draught I will give you another cup of water that should help you too."

Athos only nodded and allowed Aramis to hold the cup for him, while he first drank the bitter tasting draught and afterwards more water. Exhausted he let his head, which he had raised a little to drink better and which Aramis supported with his other hand while holding the cup, drop back onto the pillow.

"Thanks." He slurred.

Aramis put the cup down again and prepared some honey salve.

"You have to help me here a little." Aramis advised his friend.

"How?" Athos mumbled groggily.

"I will put some more pillows behind your back so that you will sit in a more upright position. It's easier for me to treat your nape that way."

Athos felt Aramis hands on his back. He was busy with putting one pillow after another behind it, until he was sitting in a more upright position. Athos still pressed the cloth against his head and leaned into its coolness.

"Alright, I will cut your shirt now. It will hurt you less than if I help you to remove it."

"Do it!" Athos advised him.

With small scissors Aramis cut open the back of Athos' shirt, just as much as he needed to reach his friend's nape better. Then he pushed Athos with his hands further down, so that his friend nearly kneeled on his legs and started to put on the sweet smelling honey salve on the blistered spots.

For a while Athos breathed in deeper, but he didn't complain. Nevertheless Aramis was sure that his hands touching the burned skin must hurt him as well.

 _I hope it will be soon over … I had no idea that my skin was so sensitive … but of course the hot sun … I usually try to cover my body with enough cloth ..._

"Nearly finished." He encouraged his friend. "Just one minute."

Athos couldn't say anything he was too busy ignoring the pain and suppressing his moans to a minimum. He felt slightly ashamed that he couldn't do anything against the pain himself, but he knew that Aramis understood him. His thoughts wandered in his mind.

 _Why can't I remember that previous day? It feels such as everything is hidden behind a thick foggy cloud. I wish I could remember … it feels like I have forgotten something important but I don't know what …_

"Ouch!" He exclaimed as Aramis touched a big blister, which drove him out of his thoughts again.

"Sorry, my friend! I am nearly finished." Aramis fetched another wet cloth and draped it on Athos' nape. The sudden coolness felt good on Athos' skin.

"Better?" Aramis asked as he finally removed some of the pillows from his back and helped his friend to lie down again on it.

"A little, I think the hammering pain in my head is subsiding. Thank you."

Athos sank deeper in the pillows. He already hoped that sleep would pull him away from the pain in his head as a sudden thought crossed his mind again.

"Is d'Artagnan in any danger, has he been injured, captured or both? Was he with me as I was shot? Is that why he's not here and Porthos and the Captain are organising a search and rescue party? Aramis, please, I need to know."

He asked with an unsteady broken voice, fighting obviously with his emotions and forced his green eyes to open again, searching Aramis' brown eyes in order to find out if he was telling the truth.

Aramis sighed and then locked eyes with his friend.

"I really wish your mind wouldn't play these tricks on you, Athos. As far as I know d'Artagnan is fine. He found you yesterday, or let's say Roger found you, but he had the idea of following Roger and his instincts brought us to you in time." Aramis explained.

He was now sitting on the mattress next to Athos' chest and refreshing the wet cloth on Athos' forehead.

"Try to sleep, Athos. He should be back when you wake up. He wouldn't have left you, if the Captain hadn't ordered him to accompany him back to the _Chateau de Fontainebleau_."

Athos closed his eyes again, but his mind was still not ready to fall asleep, something was not right. He believed Aramis, but something bothered his friend. Something he didn't want to tell him, he could sense it.

There was an odd tension in the air and he simply knew his brother too well. The way he was behaving right now, calm on the outside soothing him with humming and comforting words, but troubled in the inside. He gave himself away through driving his hand more than once through his dark hair. Of course it could be simply a sign that he was worried about his friend's state of health, but Athos felt that there was more to it.

Aramis' brown eyes, which looked tired and concerned, had the special glance they always wear when the marksman was struggling with something he wanted to keep to himself as a secret.

 _Damn, if I only could remember, I have to ask Aramis, he has to tell me._

"That far back … to the _Chateau de Fontainebleau_? I am sure ... I was nearer to Paris when ... I was ambushed ... why do they need ... to go back ... to the Chateau?"

He asked catching for breath and trying to calm his nerves again, but the worry for d'Artagnan made his heart beat faster in his chest and he felt his hands getting sweaty.

"They want to find out if those men followed you from there."

"Probably they were poachers. I don't recall that I was being followed … but somehow I don't recall anything ..." Athos sighed frustratedly. "I am sorry that they now have to investigate because of me. I wish they hadn't gone." Athos sighed.

"You would have done exactly the same if it was me who was lying now in the infirmary." Aramis chided him softly, "rest now."

"There is something else … something you didn't want to tell me …" the Comte stubbornly stated. "Aramis … what is it? I have the feeling that I am missing an important fact … and I think that's causing my headache … Please, tell me."

Again Athos searched Aramis' eyes. The medic hated that pleading look he couldn't ignore. His friend's eyes screamed for help and it was his weak spot.

 _I have to tell him … He knows me too well … hopefully his headache will ease … when I do. Or shall I wait. It will upset him …_

"Aramis?"

Athos asked again while the medic remained silent for a while and tried to avoid eye contact with his patient. Exhaustedly he dropped back on the chair he had left while caring for his brother's nape.

The medic fought in inner fight with himself, while he was lost in thought. Athos gathered all the strength he had left his left and slowly he sat up in bed until he managed to remove the sheet he was wrapped in and moved both of his legs over the corner of his bed.

Aramis head was bent, his eyes were staring at the wooden floor and he was lost in thought. He first didn't realise what Athos was doing, until he felt a soft touch on his right shoulder. Athos had managed somehow to sit on his bed, his bare feet now reaching the floor. He had ignored the pain in his thigh, which had started to throb. The sudden change in his friend's mood bothered the swordsman, he needed to know.

"What is it … what you don't tell me? Aramis, please, maybe it will help to bring my memory back. Right now it's driving me crazy that I can't remember what happened yesterday." He said in a barely audible voice, not letting go of Aramis' shoulder which he squeezed softly.

"What are you doing?" Aramis tried to protest. "You should lie down again. Your body is still weak and stressed. He wanted to stand up and help Athos back, but the latter pushed him with his hand down again, which still rested on his friend's shoulder. From where Athos took his strength was a riddle for him.

"What's bothering you? Tell me."

"It's nothing." Aramis tried to protest.

"You don't act like it is nothing. Is it d'Artagnan … no Porthos? Was he with me? Are they searching for him?"

"What? No, Porthos is …" Aramis sighed. "Will you lie down again, when I tell you?"

"Yes, I will." Athos said.

 _Honestly I do hope that I can lie down as soon as possible but something is upsetting Aramis._

"Alright." Aramis sighed again and then started to continue in a calm voice. "You were asked to bring a letter back to the palace. I think to the Queen, but it can have been for the King as well."

"A letter … so Porthos is now at the palace having taken the letter there? Where is the problem in that? You could have told me …?" Athos looked at him confused.

"It's not like that, you … you told us about the letter, but we couldn't find it. The letter was gone."

"Are you sure, if it was an important letter, maybe I hid it in my boots, I … I don't recall." Athos' left hand massaged his temple.

"No, we have checked your clothes, your saddlebag. We believe that the men who shot at you were behind this letter. You asked me to take the letter back."

Athos tried to concentrate on Aramis words, his voice faded more and more in the background. He could hear it like standing under a waterfall. It was far away, loud sounds of water dimmed it down, but there was no water, he simply heard the blood rustling in his ears.

 _A letter? How could I forget about such an important task? No wonder Aramis didn't want to tell me! My Goodness I probably have failed not only our Captain, but the King as well._

"Have I said something about the content of the letter?" Athos asked.

The hammering feeling in his head returned and he absent mindedly started to reach with his hand again at the bothering spot. He felt his throat constricting painfully and his lungs felt suddenly too tight. He tried to cough and swallow but nothing worked. The air refused to enter his burning lungs. His vision became foggy and his field of sight seemed to narrow until a frightening blackness flooded his mind.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	19. Chapter 19

**_Hey there,_**

 ** _sorry that you had to wait so long for the next chapter. I was on really amazing holidays in France. Such a beautiful country! If you ever have the chance visit the center of France with an amazing beautiful landscape, mesmerizing castles and friendly people, you should do that. On my way back home I stayed several days in Paris and had finally the chance to visit Chateau de Fontainebleau, where this story takes place. What an amazing, awesome and huge castle._**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading and reviewing on my last chapter. I have decided to stop given my chapters names because they don't focus on one single person. (More about that see below …)_**

 ** _My special thanks go out to Beth my lovely beta and to Ebm36. I have totally forgotten to tell you that she was responsible for the last lines of the last chapter and she has added some of her thoughts and written lines in this chapter too. Thank you so much E!_**

 ** _Enjoy ch 19!_**

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

 **"** **Have I said something about the content of the letter?" Athos asked.**

 **The hammering feeling in his head returned and he absent mindedly started to reach with his hand again at the bothering spot.** **He felt his throat constricting painfully and his lungs felt suddenly too tight. He tried to cough and swallow but nothing worked. The air refused to enter his burning lungs. His vision became foggy and his field of sight seemed to narrow until a frightening blackness flooded his mind.**

"No. Only that we should take the letter back. That's why Tréville and d'Artagnan left for the Chateau. They needed to know the content of the letter. Perhaps it contains some important news for the King? We wondered if that's why those men were behind you and tried to kill you."

"Athos? Can you hear me …? Athos …?" Aramis asked quietly observing with his brown eyes his friend struggling for air.

"Hmm …" Athos gasped.

Athos' head was bothering him more and more. He felt the aching pain, he could see Aramis worriedly observing him. Anyway he still needed answers. He had hoped that something would come back. Some memory. But nothing, only the intensified pain, which was bothering him and making him sick. He swallowed hard and finally his breathing slowed down again.

"Why? Why was ... I ... on my own?" He slurred.

Aramis fell silent. He had no idea what he should answer him. He couldn't tell his friend that it was his stubborn decision. He didn't want to upset him furthermore.

"Athos, you need to lie down again. I guess your head is hurting you. I am sure Tréville and d'Artagnan can find out about the letter and then they will tell us."

"Why?" Athos repeated that question more to himself than to Aramis.

He removed his hand from his friend's shoulder and buried his face in the palms of his hands as another intense pain hit his head and left him breathless for a while again.

He moaned out loud and Aramis stood up from the chair to sit next to him on the mattress. Athos' upper body was swaying dangerously and Aramis hurried himself to put his right hand on Athos' arm, encircling his shoulder and stabilizing him that way.

"Careful Athos. I will help you."

"Nooo …"

Another low moan escaped from Athos' lips, he still struggled with his breathing. His head was still buried in his hands and his upper body slightly bent.

Aramis could feel the tremors running through his friend's upper body.

"Athos?"

He tried it again. Hoping that his stubborn friend would now allow him to help him back on the mattress and in a horizontal position.

Athos felt dizzy as he suddenly thought about the letter he had received from a beautiful woman with pale eyes smiling at him mischievously. More pictures were flooding back into his mind. He felt his heart beating faster in his chest and some bile rising in his mouth which he swallowed down again.

The smile of a woman with blue eyes and dark hair; him being hit by an arrow; him trying to reach the secure shades of the tree; Aramis tending his wound and Porthos … no Aramis holding him in his arms. Calming him while they brought him back on their old wagon. D'Artagnan's worried glances and Tréville his Captain telling him to fight, to pull through.

Another moan escaped his lips as he cradled his head in his hands. Hoping the pain would finally pass, but it only intensified and for a short moment he swayed dangerously.

More and more pictures flooded back from the previous night. He remembered the surgery, the seizure and the sudden argument he had had with Aramis and he wasn't sure what they really were arguing about.

"Athos? Athos can you hear me? Talk to me? What's wrong?"

He could hear Aramis voice in a faraway distance even if he knew that his friend was sitting next to him, holding him and speaking into his ear.

 _No, Tréville should have never gone back ..._

The pain in his chest, the throbbing heart didn't want to stop. His leg now hurt more than before and his head was swirling. He felt dizzy. Catching for breath he knew what was to come next. He couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Aramis …" He mumbled with his last strength. "... I … I can remember … Tréville he shouldn't have returned … It's ..." Athos struggled with his breathing. The dizziness became even worse and he felt sick.

The medic's hand didn't let go of him.

"Shhh … it's alright." He soothed him, steadying his back. "Tell me later. Now, you really should lie down again. Your body needs rest. I can see that your head is bothering you."

"I can't … mis. I feel dizzy and … Tréville … he ..."

Athos panted and swallowed hard and Aramis knew what would come next as he saw the slightly greenish colour on his friend's face. He grabbed a small dish that was standing in reach of his hand on a small table next to Athos' bed. With one hand he held the dish under Athos' chin while with the other he supported his back.

Athos removed his hands from his face, he tried to fight against his own sickness but he couldn't keep it any longer. He opened his mouth wide and the acid vomit made it up out of his mouth. It was less food, but more water. He vomited the content into the bowl. More and more fluid came up and left his mouth mingled with salvia.

The sick man would nearly have doubled over if it hadn't been for Aramis firm grip now on his waist. Athos started to shake slightly. He hated that smell and moreover he hated to lose control over his own body and he felt so ashamed.

"Let it out. Let it all out."

Aramis softly whispered in his ear not stopping with gently stroking circles now over his back while his friend was still bent over the bowl.

"I don't know … I felt much better …" Athos gasped after a while that felt like an eternity.

"It can have been caused by your sunburn or perhaps it's the tension or your mind and soul that have finally caught up with what has happened to your body the previous day." Aramis softly explained. "Do you remember now?" He gently asked and Athos carefully nodded his head. Tears were running down his face and ran down into his beard. Tears of exhaustion, tears of shame, tears of the pain he now felt everywhere on his whole body.

When Athos had stopped vomiting and only heaved dry the medic put down the bowl, grabbed a washcloth and gently cleaned his mouth and chin, before he wiped away the traces of his tears. Athos had closed his eyes again.

As he sat in a more bent than upright position, Aramis felt his friend's strength leaving him and Athos' chest suddenly leaned more and more on his own. He slightly moved his whole body in his direction so that he had less contact with the mattress and he could hold him better. Now that he was merely sitting on the corner of the bed Aramis felt Athos' very warm body leaning heavily against his own and his friend's head lolling gently against his shoulder.

When Aramis felt Athos' breathing changing he suspected that his patient had fallen asleep and he tried to manoeuver him into a more comfortable position but he felt the body stiffen and Athos emitted a small gasp his hand grasping Aramis' sleeve. The medic waited another few seconds, maybe Athos was half asleep ... Aramis sighed. He wished Athos had shared more of his thoughts and feelings …

 _Has he remembered what was written in this letter? Does he know? I should have asked him. Ha impossible … he could not speak … he was busy with losing all the liquid we've tried to feed him since yesterday._

The bitter smell still hung in the air. Aramis tried to lay his now semi-conscious friend back on the mattress again, but Athos protested.

"Nooo … I can't lie down. I … it will come back up … mis …"

The swordsman whispered and then he let his head drop onto Aramis' chest. His friend's shirt felt almost cool under his heated skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on the rise and fall of Aramis' chest. He frowned as he noticed how fast his friend's heartbeat was. He lifted a hand to grasp a handful of Aramis' shirtsleeve which brought a soft snort from the medic.

Athos slightly raised his head with a questioning look and as they locked eyes, Aramis smiled fondly. Athos' absolute trust calmed his own agitated nerves and he felt his heart beating more slowly.

Athos' whole weight now rested on Aramis upper body, but he let him be. In spite of the fever running through his veins, Athos seemed to try to be even closer to his friend, seeking the reassurance of his warmth and of the regular heartbeat under the rough fabric.

"Shh ... it's alright. This will work too."

Aramis gently slid his arms around Athos' shoulder and hip, his hands flat on the shivering back, holding him as he had done in the wagon, only now Athos was in a sitting position. His head lolled until it found its way into the crook of Aramis' arm, but he didn't fall asleep as Aramis had hoped.

"Tréville …" He mumbled again.

"What's about Tréville, Athos?"

"The letter … he shouldn't … you should …"

"Shhh … Tréville will be back soon. Then we can talk about the letter, but now you have to rest."

Aramis could feel Athos' warm breath on his skin, his cheek on his friend's hair he tried to keep the fragile head from lolling further, finding in the mere contact a comfort he hoped his friend felt too.

"I can't sleep ... Aramis … it's all my fault …" Athos sobbed exhausted, leaning more and more on Aramis.

His arms somehow tangled around Aramis' neck in a desperate attempt not to fall down and clutched at his friend's collar as if he was his only lifeline right now.

"I have failed you." He whispered.

"What are you talking about, Athos?" Aramis tried to calm his agitated friend.

"D'Artagnan!" Athos suddenly screamed. "You need to help him … I …" The rest of Athos' sentence was lost in an inaudible mumbling as the swordsman tried to catch more and more breath.

A little helplessly Aramis tried to steady his friend's back.

"Calm, you are safe, Athos. D'Artagnan is in no danger. Breathe with me. In and out ..." He coached his friend, who followed his instructions.

 _How on earth will I manage to lie him down again? He's heating up again. I can feel his warm skin on my chest. Porthos hurry, I can't hold him much longer and I could really use your help right now._

"He … they ... shouldn't have gone …" Athos mumbled over and over again and groaned mildly.

"Hey, they will be back in no time. Shall we try and lay you back down on the mattress." Aramis asked his friend.

But Athos wasn't coherent enough to hear his friend's words. He was captured in his own thoughts and the unbearable pain on his nape, thigh and head, confused him even more and left him anxious.

Aramis already wanted to try to stand up, wondering how he could do that without tumbling on the floor and manoeuver his friend back on the bed when he heard footsteps and several seconds later the door was pushed open.

Porthos with a tray with lots of delicious food in his hands stared at the odd picture in front of him. Athos was somehow lying all over Aramis who was fighting to not tumble down on the hard floor. Before Aramis could say anything Porthos put down the tray on a nearby table and rushed over to both of his friends.

"What has happened with him?" He asked irritated. "When I left he was sleeping peacefully on the bed." He added with a slightly reproachful sound in his voice.

"I will tell you very soon, but now can you help me to lie him down, please." Aramis gasped.

"Noo …" Athos protested weakly somehow these words were reaching his mind. "I don't want to lie down. It will happen all over again."

Porthos who now smelled the acid odour in the room understood at once. Athos had been sick.

"But we both will end up on the floor Athos. I can't hold you like this any longer." Aramis tried to explain to the semi-conscious man.

No reaction.

"He's gone too far." Porthos mumbled. "He can't hear you. Wait. I have an idea." Porthos went next to Athos' other side, then he softly took Athos' arms and laid them over his shoulders. Aramis understood and shifted position with the streetfighter, who now sat next to Athos, while Aramis ducked away. Porthos held the weak man in a firm grip, not letting go of his back and Athos head dropped onto his shoulder. Finally it rested in the crook of Porthos' arm. Porthos had a better seat on the mattress and now Athos was simply resting in his strong arms.

"We wait until he finally falls asleep and then we lie him down." Porthos told Aramis who looked gratefully at his strong friend.

"Thanks for coming. Several seconds later and we both would have ended up on the floor."

Porthos scanned Aramis from head to toe while he fastened his grip around Athos' waist even tighter. He could feel the soft warm breathing of his friend on his neck. Aramis looked shaken up and confused. Something had happened while he was away and he hoped that Athos hadn't had a second seizure.

A discussion started between them without using words only their eyes to not disturb their sick brother.

 _"_ _What has happened?"_ Porthos asked with a curious look.

 _"_ _It's complicated."_ Aramis sighed and shrugged. Still trying to calm his own nerves again.

 _"_ _Have you had another argument?"_ Porthos raised his eyebrows.

 _"_ _No, it's not that. It's more complicated."_ Aramis rolled angrily with his eyes.

 _"_ _How?"_ Porthos stern glance made Aramis shiver.

 _"_ _I will tell you later. Let's take care of him first."_

Aramis pleaded with his eyes and Porthos simply nodded and then concentrated again on Athos. Checking his pulse, his warm forehead and the irregular heartbeat. Their friend was obviously distressed. What was frightening him so much? Porthos wondered.

"You have to ... stop them …" Athos slurred barely audible.

"We will … but now rest. You need to sleep. I have you." Porthos calmed him and Athos' head sank deeper in his crook of his elbow.

 _Who are you talking about? Your attackers?_ Porthos wondered.

Several minutes later both men could hear their friend's breathing changing.

"I think he has fallen asleep again." Porthos whispered softly.

"I know. Thanks to you." Aramis tried to smile, but he couldn't. The anxiety of his friend had disturbed him and now he wondered if Tréville and d'Artagnan had ridden unknowingly into a trap.

A soft knock at the half open door made them both turn their heads. Doctor Lemay cleared his throat. They were not sure how long he had been standing there.

"Good morning. I thought I'd come and check on our patient and I think you need my help as far as I can see. So if you don't mind I will help you to lie him down and then I will examine him." He told both Musketeers.

 **XXXXX**

Donna Ynes-Mencía looked bored with her blue eyes at her uncle. She was standing next to her bed still wrapped in a rose night dress. Her dark long hair was hanging over her shoulders and she was still not fully awake.

"What kind of loud noise is that? You woke me." She angrily stated in a high voice. "And why are you in my room so early in the morning?"

Her uncle didn't answer her.

"Don't mention the letter." Her uncle hissed, while holding his breath and pacing from one side of the big room to the other, which had been given to his niece as her bed-chamber.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Just, don't mention the letter and dress up. They are asking for you?"

"Who is asking for me?"

"Two Musketeers. They arrived about half an hour ago and they have questions regarding the Musketeer who delivered the letter of the Queen to you yesterday."

"Oh that letter." She suddenly laughed out loud. Too lazy to dress up she only roped herself in a dressing gown. "You started that, now fix it." She told her uncle with a cold voice. "And leave my room. I will have my breakfast in two hours." She returned to her bed and wanted to lie down again, but Don Fernando grabbed her arm.

"Ouch." She screamed angrily. "Let me loose!"

"You will now listen to me. You asked for my help and in return I asked you for a small favour: only this letter. So now you will dress up, put on some make-up and come down." He spoke in a dangerous quiet voice.

Donna Ynes-Mencía swallowed hard then she nodded and her uncle loosened the firm grip around her wrist.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Very simple: That there was no letter."

"But the Musketeer will have told them another story."

"The Musketeer is probably dead. So all you have to tell them is that he brought you a letter from the Queen but that you never asked him to deliver another letter."

"A letter you wanted to be delivered." She answered harsh. "What have you done to him? I liked him. His eyes had something mysterious."

"For God's sake do you have to flirt with every man around?" He chided her.

"He was good looking, but anyway not my type … I prefer …"

"I know what you prefer and if you don't want me to tell your fiancée about it I suggest you keep quiet, dress up and then you come down." Don Fernando's face had turned slightly red as he shouted angrily at his niece. All the quiet manner had suddenly vanished.

"You promised me …" She answered defiantly.

"Yes, I promised you to arrange an accident … but these things cost my dear niece and in exchange for that accident … I was asked to do this … and now you behave like a good girl and lie to these two Musketeers … you are good at it … they will leave us alone …"

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 **Note:**

Due to personal reasons I have decided to focus on posting my other story first. 2/3 of this story is already written and if I will continue posting, but please understand if it won't be in a weekly rhythm. This story no longer follows the themes of the Musketeers BBC UK group and isn't a part any longer of their Saturday Stories! Nevertheless I hope you will still read & review. Thank you so much for your understanding. xx Kira


	20. Chapter 20

_**Hey there,**_

 _ **thanks to my lovely beta Beth I can give you the next chapter already today. Thank you so much for finding all of my mistakes. I played a little with the text around so all remaining errors are mine not hers!**_

 _ **I dedicate this chapter to a dear friend. You know why ;-)**_

 _ **Thank you for still reading and reviewing!**_

 _ **Barbara: I am glad that you like the story. Here is the next chapter.**_

 _ **Tricia: Maybe you find out more about who has attacked Athos in this chapter? Well I said maybe ;-)**_

 _ **Beeblegirl: Thank you for your review. I still have the intention to finish the story. I wrote it for an fb group but they blocked me there (yes I am a very evil person) – so for a moment I really considered if it is worth to continue.**_

 _ **What do you think? Would Athos read a letter that is not addressed at him? And if yes for what reason? Lol Aramis wants the best for Athos … so … well … you will see.**_

 _ **Debbie: Thank you for waiting. Hmm … I am not sure if they will walk into a trap. Both of them are clever and careful. So we will see …**_

 _ **Enjoy ch 20**_

 _ **xx Kira!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 20**

"Wait!" Lemay ordered as Porthos was already trying to lie Athos down again. "Please hold him in this position a little longer. Perhaps it's better to check him now over."

With three steps towards Athos' bed the doctor came nearer to his patient, went on his knees and checked Athos' forehead with the palm of his right hand.

"Good. His fever is down, but he still has one." He mumbled more to himself. "I can see that he was sick. Let's lie him carefully down on his side, so if he has to throw up again he won't swallow his own bile." He instructed.

Porthos and Aramis nodded and helped to lay their sleeping friend down on the mattress again, as the doctor told them.

"May I?" Lemay asked and both friends moved aside after they were sure that Athos was lying in a comfortable position.

Lemay put his palm on Athos' chest feeling his faster heartbeat and then checked his still irritated breathing while wondering why the young man had thrown up. Then with some skilled moves he removed the bandage on Athos thigh and prodded with his fingers the stitches of the wound checking for any irritated or swollen spots.

"I can't see any signs of infection and as I've just told you the fever is down. Can you tell me how his night was and what happened before he fell asleep in your arms Porthos?" Lemay asked, standing still over his patient and putting the bandage back.

"He had a seizure tonight, about one minute long, afterwards he was very confused. In order to get his very high fever down we bathed him in warm water and it helped. He woke during the night and was much better." Aramis reported in a few words giving Lemay the most important facts.

"I think your bath has probably saved his life." Lemay nodded approvingly. "What has happened earlier?"

"He woke about half an hour ago. He was very confused, couldn't remember most of what happened to him yesterday, how he got here." Aramis explained. "Then he complained about a headache and it must have been a very painful one, otherwise Athos would have never admitted that he was in pain. He wanted to know more about what had occurred yesterday and hoped that it would help to bring his memory back, so I told him and it seemed to have worked. He could remember bits and pieces. Not sure how much but it made him anxious, his headache intensified and he became sick." Aramis said in a calm voice.

"The sickness could be an indication of a head injury." Lemay assumed cautiously. Gently he stroked with both of his hands over Athos' scalp.

"I already checked his head yesterday and this morning but I couldn't find anything. No bumps, no lacerations, but his nape was burned by the sun. It caused his headache, I think." Aramis said slowly observing every move the doctor made as he examined Athos' head.

"Let's hope it's that." Lemay said slowly, then he bent over Athos' back and discovered the cut shirt and could see the reddish nape.

"What else could cause this sickness, doctor?" Porthos asked with concern in his voice.

"He can still have a head injury, only that it is bleeding in the inside and we can't feel a bump then. The seizure, the sickness, the strong headache and his confusion and the fact that he has forgotten about yesterday could be an indication of that." Lemay calmly answered.

Porthos and Aramis looked shocked at him knowing very well that a head injury could be very dangerous and life threatening.

"But I think Aramis is right with the sunburn. I can see the reddish skin, the big blisters. It must hurt him. It's good that you have put salve on it."

"I still blame myself that I didn't notice it when we bathed him tonight." Aramis said angrily. "I should have checked him better"

"Your priority was to get the high fever down." Lemay gently said. "And I am sure that the bathroom had little light. I missed it yesterday too. Don't blame yourself, Aramis. Both of you did a very good job in saving his life during the past hours. Let's focus on helping him to heal properly." He stood up again.

Aramis nodded gratefully. Silently his eyes wandered to Athos' sleeping form. The latter moaned softly as Lemay wrapped the thin blanket around his patient, but he didn't wake up.

"Has something upset him?" Lemay asked. "Sometimes that can cause sickness too."

"The whole situation that he was lying here in the infirmary, so helpless, then a lot of memories from the past day and night came back at once. I think he remembered his seizure and he was agitated when he heard that Tréville and d'Artagnan went back to _Château de Fontainebleau_.

"You have told him?" Porthos asked curiously.

"He wanted to know where they were. He was convinced that d'Artagnan or you had been injured or captured. I had to tell him in order to calm him." Aramis explained to Porthos in a quiet voice and his friend's angry glare softened.

"Well, if he is worried for them this could have caused him being sick as well." Lemay paused thinking how to move on. Then he added.

"I really want to make sure that it isn't a head injury. I am afraid but I think we can't let him sleep for now. I need him awake, I need to talk to him, to see how confused he is, what kind of pain he is experiencing and I need to check his eyes, if there is any indication for a head injury they can tell us."

"You can see that in his eyes? How?" Aramis asked.

"Yes, if his pupils don't contract when I blind them with light that can be an indication of a head injury." He explained.

"So, let's make sure his eyes can contract." Porthos mumbled. "The sooner we have cleared that, the sooner we can let him sleep." He said in an earnest tone.

"I agree with you Porthos. I think it's better if you or Aramis wake him up. If his mind is still confused and he doesn't remember me from yesterday it can stress him even more. Just wake him and tell him that I am here to check him over."

"I think you should do it Aramis." Porthos told his friend while sitting on the chair at the other side of the bed observing the gentle rise and fall of his friend's chest.

"Alright, I will do it. I really hope he isn't confused again." Aramis mumbled.

Aramis bent over his sleeping friend and softly touched his shoulder.

"Athos, wake up, the doctor is here and he needs to check you over."

A soft moan was all he received the first time as an answer. Athos was curled on his right side. His right cheek was lying on the mattress and his mouth was slightly open.

Aramis tried is again. This time he squeezed his friend's shoulder a little tighter.

"Athos, please wake up." He said a little louder.

No reaction.

"Can't we let him sleep and check his eyes later." Porthos asked already regretting that he had demanded for action several minutes before.

"I'm afraid if he really has a head injury I need to treat him at once." Lemay sighed and hoped that he was wrong.

Aramis now knelt down on his knees to be on eye level with his sleeping friend and softly touched his left cheek.

"Wake up!"

"Go … w … ay … mmm … tired …" Athos answered him barely audible with his eyes still closed.

"You need to wake up. Please!" Aramis pleaded him in a bidding voice and Athos reacted to this tone in his friend's voice.

 _Something is wrong. I can hear voices around me. Aramis … he wants something from me and his voice sounds distressed …_

" … mis … what's wrong …?" Athos mumbled with his eyes still closed but now more coherent to his surroundings. He felt a throbbing pain in his thigh and an itching pain in his head.

"You need to open your eyes for us, the doctor is here, and he must check you over." Aramis whispered softly in his friend's ear, at the same time pressing Athos' cold hand.

Finally Athos rolled onto his back and opened his eyes very slowly. He blinked several times until they became used to the light in the infirmary.

"Welcome back." Porthos greeted him from the other side. The streetfighter bent now over him too and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Porthos?" Athos squeezed his eyes shut again. "Why … do you … sound … so concerned?" He panted.

Then realization hit him. Porthos was worried because of him, because he was lying injured in a bed in the garrison's infirmary. He could hear another person in the room as well and he wondered if it was the Captain or d'Artagnan.

 _Wait … Aramis has said that they are on a mission … arghh … my head still hurts so much. I wish they had let me sleep … why can't this pain simply go away … it can't be Tréville … or have I slept that long. Aramis said something … what …_ He forced himself to open his eyes again as he heard the third person approaching him.

"Good morning Athos, do you remember me?" The man asked.

Athos blinked again several times and Aramis observed him closely. He could see that the face of his brother looked distressed and haunted and he guessed that the headache was still not better. He reached for another wet cloth next to him and put it back on his brother's forehead. He could feel Athos' leaning more into his soft touch without saying a word while still trying to figure out who this man was.

"I've seen you before … at the palace …" Athos slurred. "You are … the new … doctor." He finished and wanted to close his eyes again.

"That's correct, Athos. My name is doctor Lemay and I was helping to treat your wound yesterday evening." Lemay answered in a calm and melodic voice. "You were in much pain and in shock so I doubt that you remember me." He added and smiled gently at his patient.

Athos squeezed his eyes shut again and tried to remember him, but the whole of the last evening was still very blurred.

"You helped to … treat … my leg …" Athos slowly added as he recalled the man examining him.

"Yes, I helped and Aramis closed the wound again. I'm here to check you over." He continued. "Can you tell me how you are this morning?"

Athos thought for a moment what he should say, but before he could answer he heard Aramis next to him.

"Tell him everything. He needs to know so that he can treat you properly. Imagine that the Captain found out that you hadn't told him everything." He added with a bright grin on his face.

"Better not …" Athos answered rolling his eyes. "Can I have … something to drink … water?" He asked as he suddenly felt very thirsty.

Porthos reached for a cup with water and helped him to drink as he recognised that Athos' hand, with which he wanted to hold the cup was trembling.

"Easy, easy. We do it slowly. Just some little sips, I'll help you."

Porthos said in his calm melodic voice which grounded Athos. He felt Porthos hand on his back, helping him to rise a little and then he held the cup to his lips. After some gulps he felt his head swirling again and exhaustedly he turned it away and let it drop on the pillow.

Lemay waited patiently and observed his patient closely. His eyes were red rimmed, his face still pale, but that was to be expected after the blood loss of the previous day. His lips were chapped, he obviously had breathing problems and he was sure that he couldn't remember that he had been sick several minutes before. The many times he opened and closed his eyes were an indication that either the light or their loud voices were bothering him and he could see in the strained face that his patient must be in severe pain.

"Alright are you now up to answering me some questions. Maybe it would be easier if I ask you and you simply respond. This way we can make sure that we don't forget anything important."

"That's fine with me doctor."

Athos said slowly, while turning his head towards Aramis and pleading with his eyes for support. The latter came closer and softly pressed Athos' shoulder. Supported now from two sides by his friends Athos felt more comfortable.

Lemay recognized the deep bond between the soldiers, a bond he had already witnessed last night, but the way they cared and supported each other impressed him. Thinking of the words that Aramis had just spoken to his friend he thought of a good way in which talk with his patient.

"Athos, how is your leg this morning?"

He decided to start with the more obvious wound and with what the injured Musketeer would expect to be asked, at the same time he could observe how he reacted, answered and if he was more confused than he should be. If the officer had a head injury he would notice it in the way he spoke and answered as well.

Athos closed his eyes for a moment to feel his wounded leg. Then he opened them again and answered:

"It's much better than yesterday before the surgery. The unbearable pain is gone … it's more dull now and less pulsing."

Athos responded slightly uncertain if that was the answer the doctor wanted to hear. He felt the pain in his head increasing again.

 _It's worse than before … wait … before … when …_ Athos started to breathe more irregularly, he opened his mouth wider as realisation hit him. _I was awake earlier … I … I wanted to know … I had forgotten so much … and suddenly I felt dizzy and sick … What's wrong with me? Why is my mind playing tricks on me and why are they all looking down on me so concerned. Aramis … I need to ask him …_

Another pain went through Athos whole body and he tried to suppress a moan but he failed and the others could hear that he was obviously in great distress. Nervously he went with his right hand to the spot on his forehead that bothered him and pressed down on it.

"Are you in any other pain?" He could hear Lemay now more in the distance and he really needed to concentrate to understand the next words that appeared to be only whispered. "Athos is your head bothering you? I can see that your are massaging your temple?"

Athos stayed silent and tried to calm his breathing again.

"Athos? Can you hear me?" Lemay tried it again.

But Athos only blinked his eyes as he tried to fight against the new wave of pain that hit his head. For a moment he saw stars and blackness and then his head was spinning again. He moved his head unsettled on the pillow to find a better position to get rid of the pain, when it didn't work he moaned out loud and curled up, turning onto his right side and searched with his right hand for Aramis'.

"What's ... wrong ... with me … mis? Why does … my head … hurts so much …?" He slurred.

It was obvious to all of them that he had problems concentrating and speaking clearly. Aramis softly pressed his friend's hand and the swordsman held onto it. Athos was glad for the small comfort the medic's touch gave him.

"Is the pain worse than before?" Aramis asked quietly.

 _Thud … thud … thud …_

Athos heard the fast beat pulsing in his chest. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain on the left side of his chest and for a moment he could only hear his ears ringing. The thundering sound had somehow faded but the pain in his chest didn't want to leave him. An itching pain, different to the pain in his leg or his head.

"Much …" Athos groaned. "I don't … know …"

Athos felt his heart suddenly throbbing harder in his chest and groggily he let his hand drop over the spot on his chest where the pain was spreading. He pressed his palm on the aching spot and hoping that the odd feeling would go away again. The palpitating left him confused.

 _What's wrong with me. Why is my heart racing? I can feel it beating in one moment nearly escaping my chest and in the next moment it pauses, only to thunder again in my chest. I wish the pain would go away. Why can't I sleep. Why ..._

"Nooo …" Athos groaned out loud, confused why he felt so miserable.

"What is it, Athos?" Aramis asked.

No answer. Athos head lolled on the pillow and he moaned again.

"Athos, can you hear me, talk to me, tell me, what's wrong?" Aramis pleaded him, while gently pressing his hand and feeling that Athos' firm grip loosened a little.

The swordsman opened his still feverish eyes and blinked confused.

"Don't know … mis … my heart … it ..." Athos gasped while opening his mouth wide.

Aramis could see the sudden movement of his brother's pupils wandering from one side to the other, while he didn't stop pressing his hand further down on his ribcage.

 **XXXXX**

"How long shall we wait?" D'Artagnan asked quietly. The young man wondered how many minutes had already passed. Precious time. His thoughts had returned to his mentor and he hoped and prayed that Athos was much better by now.

"We've been waiting now for over twenty minutes. I give the Lady another ten minutes and then I will go upstairs and search for her. It doesn't matter if she is a noble woman …" Tréville wanted to continue but both Musketeers heard footsteps and turned their heads around.

Don Fernando approached with a young woman, who wore a dark blue dress which matched perfectly with her cold blue eyes and her dark long hair, which she had woven to a plait. She was as tall as her uncle, very thin and she still looked tired. Nevertheless she smiled at the two Musketeers, who studied her vigilantly.

 _She reminds me a little of Milady. Only younger. Her look has something mysterious and her eyes look intelligent, but angry._ D'Artagnan thought.

"What can I do for the King's Musketeers at this early hour of the morning?" Dona Ynes-Mencía asked as she had finally reached Tréville and d'Artagnan. She had stopped next to her uncle three steps away from Tréville. Behind her and her uncle a man with dark hair approached, the same man, they had seen when they had entered the entrance hall.

Captain Tréville slightly bowed his head. In a polite tone he addressed her.

"My name is Captain Tréville from the Musketeers. I am sorry, Madame, to disturb you so early in the morning, but we need to ask you an important question."

Tréville smiled at her. His intelligent eyes observed her carefully, looking for each of her facial expressions in order to find out if this woman would lie to him or tell the truth.

Dona Ynes-Mencía smiled at the Musketeer Captain, but the smile somehow looked forced.

"Has it anything to do with the Musketeer who visited us yesterday to deliver a letter from Queen Anne?" Her intelligent eyes wandered from Tréville to d'Artagnan and then back to the Musketeer Captain.

"Yes it has. Can you confirm that you have given him a letter that he should deliver back to Paris?"

"I've already told you that my niece hasn't given your Musketeer such a letter." Don Fernando interrupted the Captain, before Dona Ynes-Mencía could answer.

"I've asked your niece, not you!" Tréville glared angrily at the Don.

"Calm, uncle Fernando!" Ynes-Mencía soothed her uncle. She smiled again. Then she answered stepping one step nearer to Tréville. "I'm not sure if this is the answer you want to hear Captain, but I haven't written another letter. Why do you want to know?" She now asked curiously.

"The Musketeer who delivered this letter from the Queen to you yesterday, was attacked in the nearby woods and left for dead. As we found him he said he was given a letter to bring back to the palace."

"That's horrible. The poor man!" Dona Ynes-Mencía exclaimed and her eyes filled with tears.

For a moment d'Artagnan was not sure if she was really shocked, concerned, or only a good convincing actress.

Dona Ynes-Mencía looked at the floor, gathered her feeling then she looked up into Tréville's blue eyes spotting his concern.

"I am sorry to hear that this man was wounded. Is he dead?" She asked in a soft voice.

"We found him in time."

Tréville answered, not wanting to admit to the state of health he had left his Lieutenant in. An infected wound could still kill even a strong young man. He had seen too many soldiers, too many of his own men dying of an infected wound, but he still prayed that Athos would survive.

"Please, wish him a speedy recovery. He was very kind to me. He delivered the letter from the palace, but then he left again." She now stepped back to her uncle.

"See, I told you Captain Tréville." The older man growled, dangerously.

"Could it be that any of your men gave him a letter?" D'Artagnan asked from the distance.

"Why should they?" Don Fernando asked.

"Did you invite him for lunch?" D'Artagnan asked. "Maybe a small decent meal before his ride back to Paris. I can imagine that my friend's horse needed some rest."

"Of course we offered him to eat with the valets." Dona Ynes-Mencía now looked at d'Artagnan. Her voice had changed into something reproachful. "But he declined. He said he needed to be back in Paris as soon as possible."

D'Artagnan wasn't sure if this was true. But what reason would the young woman have to lie to them? Maybe the uncle, but the young woman …? He tried it one last time, knowing very well, that his question could be interpreted as rude, but he needed to know.

"May I ask what the letter was about the Queen send to you?"

"You may not." Don Fernando shouted angrily and again Dona Ynes-Mencía was the one who calmed him again.

"Of course you can ask. It is not a secret. Queen Anne knew that I am staying here in _Chateau de Fontainebleau_ and she invited me to come to one of her garden parties she wants to give in two weeks, but I can't attend."

"So, wouldn't it be normal to write her an answer that you can't come?" D'Artagnan now asked curiously.

In the meantime it was now Tréville who became angrier. If that had been really true, that a Musketeer had been asked to deliver a simple invitation to a party, he would have to have a serious word with the Cardinal, who had asked him to deliver this message from the Queen. Such a letter could have been delivered by a simple valet. His Musketeers had other tasks to fulfill.

"She hasn't asked me for an answer." Dona Ynes-Mencía smiled at d'Artagnan. She observed the young Musketeer from head to toe. She liked what she saw. His dark hair, his brown eyes. She had to admit he was more her type.

"If you excuse us now." The man in the background suddenly said, approaching them. "I think you have asked enough questions. Don Fernando and Dona Ynes-Mencía have more important issues to fulfill."

Tréville glanced at the man with the scar on his cheek. His dark eyes glared dangerously at the Captain of the Musketeers.

 _Now is not the time to start a fight. Stay calm. Something is more than wrong, but I don't know what._

"Thank you very much Madame, Don Fernando. Have a good day. Please let the palace know when you are leaving, we will probably come back when we have further questions. Be advised that this is an ongoing investigation. The King takes it personal when one of his Musketeers is attacked. Good bye!" Captain Tréville said in a cold voice towards Don Fernando and his mysterious valet. He bowed his head towards Dona Ynes-Mencía, then he nodded to Don Fernando and gave d'Artagnan a sign to follow him.

As they returned to their horses d'Artagnan wanted to ask Tréville what they should do now, but Tréville's glance told him to stay silent. So they mounted and rode back to the woods. As they reached the first trees Tréville slowed his horse down, turned to d'Artagnan and asked him:

"What do you think?"

"I think they are lying?" D'Artagnan snorted. "Even if it was a simple invitation from the Queen - but why then send a Musketeer to deliver the letter - the woman would have written an answer to tell her if she can come or not."

"Exactly, that's what I am thinking." Tréville looked at his young soldier.

"So what shall we do now?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Now, we wait and observe. I am sure that we have stirred this Don Fernando and the other man. Whatever is going on, they will make preparations either to leave or to go to Paris. If this letter was important to them they now need to get it back."

"What if they already have the letter back?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Good question. I think then they will leave as soon as possible. But why should they want to have a letter back they gave Athos to deliver to the palace? That doesn't make any sense at all to me." Tréville shook his head.

"I could try to go back, hide myself in the huge chateau and try to listen to some of their talks." D'Artagnan offered.

"It's too dangerous, d'Artagnan. You have seen this man, Juan, with the scar on his cheek. He made the impression on me that he is a trained soldier." Tréville shook his head. "No, we wait here, at least for an hour. If we don't see anything, we will return to Paris and I will need to speak to the Cardinal. I need to know what message Athos had to deliver and I want to know why he asked me to send one of my men."

D'Artagnan looked astonished up.

"The Cardinal asked you only to send one of us?"

"Yes, and I had no second thoughts about it. I should have. But I simply assumed you would ride together. You always do. Athos always takes care of that, that's why I did not order who he shall take with him." Tréville sighed loud. "D'Artagnan it's my doing. I should have been more careful."

"Captain, why don't we stop blaming each other? You told me earlier that Athos will make it. I am sure he is already better by now." The young Gascon dismounted from his horse. "If you allow, I will look around in the woods, maybe I can find a better spot from where we can observe this huge castle."

"You are right d'Artagnan. So one hour and then we will return and be careful this valet of the Don looked like a dangerous man, experienced with weapons. So stay in the woods. What I don't need right now is to worry for another of my men. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain!" D'Artagnan answered, then he moved deeper in the dark forest.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	21. Chapter 21

**_Thank you for reading and reviewing my last chapter._**

 ** _My special thanks go out to Beth for proofreading and to Ebm36 for helping me with some descriptions._**

 ** _Debbie: Thank you so much for your review. Yes, the plot thickens … well … could it be a simple letter? … Yes, I can see Tréville already in that role of the furious, angry Captain ;-) lol_**

 ** _Enjoy ch 21!_**

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

Lemay observed the whole incident from the distance while he had decided to let Aramis ask the questions, but now he approached his patient again. Seeing him in such distress and pain, pressing his palm on his chest over his heart was not a good sign.

"Athos, can you tell me why you are pressing your hand on that spot on your chest?" Lemay asked.

"My heart … it beats oddly … too fast … pain is worse …" Athos slurred.

Cautiously Lemay removed his patient's hand from his chest and felt with his fingers for a pulse on his patient's wrist. The pulse was too fast for his liking. He softly placed the cold hand down on the mattress next to his patient's body, then he lifted Athos' shirt and felt with his palm Athos' heartbeat.

Athos felt the cool touch on his chest and tried to turn away but Aramis stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.

"Stay like this, Athos. The doctor needs to check on you."

"Hmm …" Athos answered and again his feverish green eyes searched his brother's. Hoping that Aramis gentle smile could somehow take the unbearable pain away.

The doctor could feel the irregular heartbeat of his patient. It was beating much too quickly and then skipping a beat. Palpitations. He removed his hand again and put Athos' shirt back.

Porthos watched every single step the doctor was doing on Athos with his dark brown worried eyes.

"Your heartbeat is a little too fast for my liking, Athos but it could be caused through the stress your whole body had to endure and the fact that I am now examining you doesn't help to settle and calm you down. Open your mouth and cough please." He ordered.

"Hmm …" Athos answered not really coherent anymore.

The thoughts were spinning in his mind and he noticed that he was not getting enough oxygen. He opened his mouth wide and struggled for air.

"Can you cough?" He heard Aramis' soft voice in his ear and he obeyed.

As suddenly as the pain in his chest had appeared it vanished again, but he still was struggling for air. In panic he breathed more and more oxygen into his lungs. He felt like a fish on land gasping for air while curling even more on himself. Afraid he pressed Aramis' hand even tighter.

"Help me." He whispered barely audible. "I can't … breathe …" Was all he managed to say.

"Calm!" He suddenly heard Porthos' soft voice at his back.

Before he understood what was happening his friend sat down on the mattress and asked him to breathe with him. As Porthos realised that Athos couldn't follow him he groaned frustratedly but he wasn't ready to give in so easily. Softly he laid himself at Athos' back so that his chest touched his friend's back. Then he tried it again, whispering in his ear.

"Breathe with me. In and out … in and out …" Athos could feel Porthos' strong arms holding him, he felt his warm breath in his ear, he could hear his brothers words - a soft rumbling voice - and finally he followed his instructions and his breathing settled down again.

 _What are you doing Porthos ...?_

Athos felt his brother's arms holding his shoulder and pressing him gently against his chest. Athos could feel the even rising and falling of his friend's chest and it helped him to follow Porthos' whispered words. It was hard for him to concentrate. The pain wouldn't stop. He swallowed hard several times. Porthos didn't stop repeating the words _"_ _in and out"_ in the same tempo he slowly breathed. It was like a mantra and finally Athos could calm his own nerves.

 _Why is it so hard for me to breathe? Why is my world spinning? Who has done this to me? Why can't I remember what has happened?_

 _Porthos, you are helping me, I am grateful and Aramis … don't leave me. Both of you … I need you right now … more than ever … I feel so weak … so helpless …_

Some tears were now running down his cheeks and Aramis softly wiped them away with his thumb. Stroking softly over his friend's warm cheeks.

"Listen to Porthos. You will be better. The pain will go away."

Athos opened his green shimmering eyes and the moment their eyes met Aramis could see pain, confusion and anxiety and he gathered all his own strength together to smile at him. Athos didn't let go of his hand, but the medic could feel that the tight grip slackened a little. His brother was starting to become tired. He could see his eyes drooping and he wasn't sure how coherent he still was.

 _What's wrong with me Aramis? I need to know? It's not my leg … it's something else … something much worse … that's why you are all here … wait not all of you._

 _D'Artagnan … maybe they don't want him to see me so helpless, like a little child … not able to care for myself._

Athos' whole body started to shake and Aramis feared another seizure. Porthos started to stroke with both of his hands over Athos' arms and the shaking stopped. Athos blinked again and he listened to Porthos' soft comforting words.

"In and out … in and out." He heard Porthos now speaking more loudly as he noticed that his sick brother had started to breathe irregularly again and Athos simply listened and followed.

When he heard his friend's breathing becoming calmer and softer Porthos looked up at Aramis silently asking him if he had to move. At the medic's nod, Porthos gingerly disentangled himself from behind Athos' sweaty back. It brought a gasp from the wounded man but no more as he immediately curled on his side in a foetal position, unmindful of his wound. Aramis winced but it seemed that the position didn't hurt him but on the contrary it calmed him. Maybe a restful sleep was to be expected at last. A few minutes passed. Porthos now stood next to the bed, frowning, his fist clenched and something in his stance reminded Aramis of the stance he sometimes had at the beginning of a fight.

They finally thought that Athos was asleep again but the sick man was only waiting for his breathing to become normal, for his heart to stop trying to pierce his ribcage, for his limbs to stop trembling. When he could finally breathe more calmly Athos left the foetal position and rolled exhausted onto his back again. He opened his eyes, blinked and stared at the ceiling. The spinning in his head had finally passed. Porthos, reassured, took a step back and was about to sit down on a stool, but Athos managed to whisper.

"Please … stay … I feel … so alone … and scared … What's happening … to … me …?"

"You are not alone." Porthos knelt beside the bed head and laid his hand on the pillow above Athos' head. He wished he could hide the tears glistening in his own eyes. Aramis looked at them with the same moisture veiling his eyes. Athos' life was still at stake and it frightened them.

"Alright, I could do with a little nap as well." Porthos laughed gently.

It was the best way he had found to agree to Athos' demand without hurting his self- esteem.

"Care to leave me some space?" He added with a soft wink.

Athos did his best to shuffle over the narrow bed and Porthos gingerly settled his large frame beside his friend. He felt a shiver run through Athos' body and a sigh which sounded like a sob. With his right arm under Athos' back he pulled his friend closer to himself so that their shoulders touched, but Athos moaned as the movement jolted his thigh.

"Sorry. I …" Porthos said trying to stand up.

Aramis frowned ready to intervene.

"No, please …" Athos whimpered.

Aramis smiled at the begging tone in Athos' voice.

Porthos carefully pulled his arm from underneath his friend's back and instead bent it on the pillow, laid his head in the crook of his elbow and slung his left arm over Athos' chest, keeping him close but leaving enough space between them to avoid hurting him. Athos instinctively brought his head closer to Porthos' and closed his eyes.

"You will be better in no time." Porthos whispered in Athos' ear and the sick man leaned into his touch. Athos became more and more calm and Porthos could feel that the tremors had finally left his friend's body again.

"That's it my friend."

He mumbled softly and, unfolding his arm, he clumsily and gently stroked some strands away from his forehead. The calm aura of Porthos steadfastness like a rock in the crushing sea had brought Athos back to reality. His head was still hurting but it had finally stopped spinning and for a moment he simply enjoyed the fact that he was still alive. When he felt the observing glances from Lemay and Aramis on him he slowly opened his eyes and mumbled:

"I'm … sorry …"

"Don't be. Your body had to endure a trauma and it will need time to heal. Let me check your heart again."

Lemay said and he smiled as he lifted his patient's shirt a second time. Athos felt Lemay's cold hand resting on his chest.

"It's normal that you feel like this right now. See, your heart is beating slower and I am sure the pain in your chest has vanished again."

"Yes it has … after I … coughed." Athos quietly answered.

"Porthos has helped you as well. I wish I had friends like yours." Lemay added with a fond smile, which Athos couldn't see, because he had his eyes closed again. Slightly embarrassed that he was the center of their attention. "Alright, Athos, I need to check your eyes and then I will prepare you a pain draught for your headache.

 _Yes Portos has. They both have … but where is d'Artagnan? … What am I missing? They're not telling me ... something … must be wrong ... if only my head would stop throbbing ..._

"Go … ahead … a pain potion sounds good …" Athos mumbled searching for the contact of Porthos' shoulder again.

Lemay looked around the infirmary.

"What do you need doctor?" Aramis asked.

"A lighted candle would help." He answered and Aramis fetched him one after he had persuaded Athos with some soft mumblings to let go of his hand.

Athos had closed his eyes again and searched anew for Aramis' hand which he had squeezed tightly when the panic attack had gripped his whole body. The medic hadn't complained the whole time but simply suffered with him.

"Alright, Athos. Can you please open your eyes?" Lemay asked and Athos followed his instructions.

Aramis helped by lifting his friend's head with his other hand, while Lemay bent closer with the burning candle over Athos' upper body.

Athos wanted to turn his head away, but Porthos encouraged him to follow the orders of the doctor, whispering more comforting words into his ear.

"Look into the flame of the candle. First with your left and then with your right eye." Lemay ordered.

Athos wanted to shut his eyes again. The bright light was blinding him, but Aramis also instructed him to do as the doctor had requested and Athos finally followed. Both Lemay and Aramis observed Athos' irises closely which contracted immediately and went smaller as the light was shone into the eyes. Aramis gave a sigh of relief guiding his brother's head back onto the pillow.

"Why do I … feel … that … you are hiding … something … from me?" Athos asked exhaustedly.

"I needed to check you for a possible undetected head injury." Lemay said cautiously. "But your eyes are reacting to the light, so you don't have an internal bleeding in your brain." He added.

"What …?" Athos asked confused.

"Your seizure, your severe headache, memory loss, dizziness and being sick. All these are symptoms that can occur with a head injury. We needed to be sure." Aramis softly explained. "In order to treat you properly."

"So, my headache ... is not caused ... by a head injury?" Athos asked after several moments understanding why they had needed to check.

"No, I think your headache is caused by the severe sunburn on your nape and your confusion through the stress your body had to endure after you were shot at. Give it time, your memory will come back." The doctor softly squeezed his patient's good leg.

"And my heart?" Athos asked now a little insecure.

"You felt that we were stressed, so your body and your senses reacted to that." Lemay answered.

"Here, drink." Aramis pressed his friend a cup with fresh water to his lips. "You have lost lots of fluid which you need to replace."

Athos drank some water, while Lemay prepared a stronger pain draught than Aramis had given Athos earlier and put in some herbs that would help his patient to fall asleep sooner. He passed it over to Aramis and the medic helped his friend to drink the bitter draught. After he had managed to drink half of the cup, Athos turned his head away and sank down on his pillow.

Athos had closed his eyes again. He felt very tired and exhausted. Porthos wiped some beads of sweat from his face as he watched his brother relaxing more and more. The even breathing which escaped his lips was a good sign. Athos' hand, which still had hold on Aramis, dropped back onto the mattress. Aramis and Porthos shared glances of relief while doctor Lemay was busy packing his stuff together. They already thought that Athos was sleeping again when the weak man mumbled, before finally falling asleep:

"Please, don't tell Tréville …"

"What do you mean?"

Aramis asked softly hoping at least for an answer, but Athos could say no more because the potion had finally won over his exhausted and stressed mind and body. His head lolled to the right side and his breathing became deeper. A clear indication that their brother was now asleep.

Porthos breathed out loudly, gently stroked over his friend's hair, then he stood up and walked restlessly through the room, while Aramis busied himself with spreading the thin blanket back over Athos' whole body. Resting his palm on Athos' chest to make sure that his heart was beating regularly. He needed to know that they really had done everything they could.

"Will he be alright, doctor?" Porthos suddenly asked in the silence.

"He is young and strong, he has survived the critical hours, his fever is down and he has no head injury. So with lot's of rest, enough fluids and food he should heal again." Lemay said firmly.

"What's about his leg?" Aramis looked now up.

"He will have to be easy on it for several days and then he has to train it but from what I have seen tonight and now this morning, I am sure you will take good care of him." He smiled.

Aramis nodded slowly.

"So he has no head injury but why is he still confused and can't remember everything?" Aramis asked.

 _But what can the doctor do anyway if he is bleeding in his brain. Head surgery? To drill a hole in his head._ He had heard about those surgeries. _He won't survive this …_ Aramis shuddered and watched Athos' chest rising and falling.

"I am certain because of the seizure, which was caused by his high fever and not of a head injury, Aramis. Your friend is still a little confused and weak, but that was to be expected. He could follow my questions and answer them. He could recall more and more while I was checking on him."

"Why then the sudden pain in his chest?" Porthos asked.

"Your friend had a panic attack when we asked him about his well being. That's why his heart was palpitating, I mean beating irregularly and he had problems with his breathing." Lemay explained.

"Do you think it could have been caused by his memory loss, that he experienced something that's now coming back?"

"It could be …" Lemay paused. "but as I told Athos I think he could sense our anxiety and that he was even more severely wounded than we first thought. In his weak state of health he is reacting to that more sensitively than he normally would."

"I see. Thank you very much. Can you give me the recipe of that pain potion, please? Maybe we will need it again." Aramis asked.

"I will write it down for you Aramis and then I'm afraid, I have to go. Please send greetings to your Captain and if you need me again, you know where to find me. Don't hesitate to call me." He spotted the bowl on the ground, took it and said: "I will get rid of this. Make sure the room and our patient get enough fresh air." He added, then he left.

Aramis sat next to Athos' head and took his friend's hand as he moaned softly. The touch calmed him again.

"I never have seen him so fragile?" Porthos mumbled a few minutes later after he had opened several windows in the infirmary and they both enjoyed the warm wind and the fresh air now flooding in through the windows.

He returned back to his chair and dropped with a loud sigh onto it. Cautiously his hand found his way back onto his friend's head and he gently stroked over his thick brown curls to comfort Athos and to calm himself.

"He was severely wounded, Porthos. If we hadn't found him in time …" Aramis swallowed hard and Porthos knew exactly why Aramis couldn't speak out loud.

"And his panic attack? Do you really think it was caused by our own anxiety?" He asked.

Aramis smiled suddenly.

"This my friend, I doubt. He searched for our help. He trusted us to be there for him, you, me. Gosh, he squeezed my hand so hard that I nearly had to scream. No, I think it has to do with this damn letter and maybe with Tréville? I don't know. His last words … something is worrying him and it's making him anxious, that's what caused his panic attack, not us. He is used to us being overprotective." Aramis sighed loudly.

Then he looked over to their sleeping friend and he realized that his own limbs had started to shake slightly.

"If he thinks that Tréville and d'Artagnan have stepped into a trap I'd better find some of our comrades and ride to _Château de Fontainebleau_ now." Porthos said firmly. "Stay here with him Aramis. He will need you, when he wakes up."

"He will need you as well, both of us." Aramis softly said and searched Porthos' brown eyes.

"You know, what I meant … you know how to help him with pain potions, teas, salves, checking his wounds …" He added quietly.

"I know, but you managed to calm his fast heartbeat. He is afraid of something …"

"So maybe his body is telling us that they are in danger." Porthos slowly said.

"I think it's something else, Porthos. I am not sure what it is … but I think Athos would have told us with his last willpower and strength that they are in danger … You know him. When he now says don't tell Tréville … he …" Aramis paused. "Something else is troubling and hurting his mind."

"So what is it then?"

"I don't know, Porthos. Maybe he simply feels ashamed that he went on a mission on his own and was wounded … maybe he is blaming himself … He is good in that ... Maybe …" Aramis paused.

He suddenly felt dizzy. The stressful past hours, the lack of sleep, the worrying over his friend and fighting for his well-being and life were finally taking its toll. He couldn't think clearly anymore. He knew he was overtired and he needed fresh air.

"Can you please stay with him. I need …"

He removed his hand from Athos', stood up and swayed dangerously before his hands found the backrest of the chair. Porthos already wanted to jump up but Aramis stopped him with a hand movement.

"It's alright … I simply need fresh air and some time on my own. Take good care of him and call me if he …" Porthos nodded understandingly. "I am down by our bench."

Aramis added softly then with a last glance at his sleeping brother he went for the door.

"I will think about what you have just said. Take your time, Aramis, but come back and if you are back and Athos is awake we will question him or I will saddle my horse, gather some men and ride for the château." Porthos told him.

Aramis turned his head, smiled at Porthos and said:

"We will do it like that. Thank you my friend." With these words said he left the infirmary.

Porthos looked concerned after Aramis sensing that the medic was shaken deeply too. He let him be for a while.

 _Maybe it's best when you breathe some fresh air and perhaps you go to our small chapel and light a candle there. We are all overtired, but you had less sleep than me. And I know you Aramis, you hate seeing one of us in this condition._

Porthos turned his head back to Athos' sleeping form.

"Rest, sleep, I hope the pain potion finally helps you to get rid of these horrible headaches." He whispered in his friend's ear as Athos moved slightly and moaned softly. Porthos' voice calmed him again and he continued to sleep.

 **XXXXX**

"That was a stupid idea, Don Fernando." Juan chided the older man.

"They have left Juan!" Dona Ynes-Mencía looked at him. "I think I was convincing enough."

"You probably would have been, if your uncle hadn't decided to interrupt you each time you explained yourself. I am sure you have convinced that young Musketeer, he looked really naive and he has fallen for your eyes." He smiled at her. "But the Captain is a seasoned man and we have not tried to kill an unimportant Musketeer but his Lieutenant. It was more than obvious that the Captain cares for this man." Juan sighed and walked from one corner to the other in the entrance hall.

"What else could we have done? They wanted to speak to Ynes." Don Fernando shrugged. "I think my plan was good." He said confidently.

"About what plan are you talking: hiring those men, who never returned here or this fiasco right now? You should have told me earlier and I would have finished the job so that this Captain would have never found his Musketeer." He shook his head and stared angrily at Don Fernando. "Best thing we can do right now is leaving as soon as possible."

"Don't be so overbearing, Juan!" Don Fernando shouted angrily at the young man. "I did it for you, too."

"I never asked you to do such a thing. What an undignified deed to kill a Musketeer. To achieve what ..."

"Juan, please don't be angry with my uncle. You know exactly why he did what he did." Dona Ynes-Mencía tried to calm the now agitated man.

"That doesn't mean that I approve it, it's best if we leave."

"It would look more than suspicious to leave now in an haste." Don Fernando stated coldly. "I will go to Paris and see what I can do. No one else shall ever find out about what I ordered." He declared.

"Will you try to finish the job?" Juan raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure yet."

"I can accompany you." Juan offered.

"It's better if you stay here."

"But I could come along?" Ynes-Mencía offered.

"Haven't you been already in Paris yesterday until late at night?"

"No, I was on a longer ride after the Musketeer left." Ynes-Mencía said angrily.

"Don't you have a guest to entertain?" Don Fernando asked her.

"Our guest is still asleep. I assume. Alright, I'll stay but be careful uncle. When you come back from Paris we will leave. It's time for me to finally meet my financé." She said in a determined tone.

"We will - as soon as I have seen to this problem." He smiled at her, then he hurried away to the stable, ordering a servant to saddle one of his horses.

"Your uncle is a fool." Juan stated angrily. "I should go after him."

"Leave him, you know why he did it."

"He will only cause more trouble. I will follow him and see that what he has started is finished."

"As you wish." Dona Ynes-Mencía came nearer and kissed him passionately on his lips.

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	22. Chapter 22

**_Thank you so much for reading & reviewing the last chapter. Here's the next chapter._**

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _Thank you so much for your review. Yes, if Athos could remember, he could easily explain to Porthos and Athos. Let's hope he will be better soon. Not sure if Tréville and d'Artagnan are in danger … but it is possible … I won't say more ;-)_**

 ** _Enjoy the next chapter._**

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

Aramis stepped out of the infirmary into the courtyard. Slowly very slowly his eyes and ears accustomed to his surroundings. He shortly closed his eyes, let the sun shine in his face and breathed in deeply several times. He had needed the fresh air, the acid smell still hung in his nose and he felt dirty.

 _How much more miserable must Athos feel right now?_

He tried to get rid of the picture that was still occupying his mind. Athos pale face, lying so helpless and weak in his bed moaning because of the pain and gasping for air. His palm pressed on his chest. His green eyes open, but somehow unfocused, looking so scared, so confused like a little boy and searching for Aramis' eyes. He tried to get rid of this glance. Athos' eyes had screamed for help as his voice was too weak to scream when he was moaning and gasping for each breath that kept him alive. The feverish half-open eyes had begged him to ease the pain, to help him, to explain to him why he felt so miserable and all he could do was holding his brother's hand, which Athos had grabbed and not wanted to let go hoping that this touch would redeem him from all this pain. He had felt paralysed. If it hadn't been for Porthos jumping to action and calming their ailing brother …

 _It was close … too close … and I have done nothing …_ The medic blamed himself.

He wanted to go over to their bench, to sit down, but other Musketeers were standing near to it and were working around the stable. Now they were looking in his direction. Of course they had heard that their Lieutenant had been wounded seriously and of course they all were worried for him. They valued Athos a lot. Aramis could see their hidden glances towards him and he was sure that they would come over to him and ask him about Athos' state of health and if they could do something for him … for them, but Aramis was not ready to talk with them.

The usually talkative and sociable man, to whom it was easy to talk to and who always cared for his comrades, needed silence. So he ignored their glances and when Hugo made several steps towards him, Aramis turned around and decided to flee to their small chapel.

The place didn't deserve the name of the chapel. It had not the usual roman or gothic forms of one and only two small windows, but for him it was their chapel. A place of refuge, where he went very often to pray or lit a candle.

 _I should pray for you my brother. I should light a candle for you._

The small building, not bigger than a shed which had space for about fifteen people was situated near to their garrison cemetery. It was about five years old and Aramis still could remember the reason why they had built it and who built it.

He slowly entered the dark room. Inside there were only a few candles burning and his look rested on the wooden crucifix in front of him. Some stranger would only see a plain cross, with the crucified Jesus, but Aramis saw more when he looked on it. He saw love.

This cross had been made from one piece of wood. Carefully carved with lots of love for all the details. The hands, the fingers, the crown of thorns, beautiful closed eyes. The cross wasn't painted but it didn't need any paint. The message was simple and the man who had brought it in this chapel must have spent a fortune to buy it.

Aramis felt so empty. He stared at the cross and tried to pray, but words didn't come in his mind. He simply stared at the wooden cross. He tried to be angry, he tried to be sad, he tried to scream … but there was nothing.

When he finally remembered the story of the cross he couldn't hide his tears any longer. He felt the salty wetness running down over his cheeks, ending in his beard and dropping on his shirt. He didn't wipe the wetness away with his hands. Instead he sank on his knees and stared at the cross.

 _Let him live … let him live … don't make him suffer anymore. It's enough._

"Do you hear me, it's enough!" Aramis shouted angrily, slightly shocked by his own loud words.

Of course there was no answer. God never answered him in this way by talking to a foreign voice. Aramis only looked at a simple piece of wood.

This cross, this chapel had helped him to overcome the most horrible experience of his life. It had helped him after he had returned severely wounded from Savoy. They hadn't had a chapel back then.

After weeks of lying in bed he finally was allowed to go to the courtyard and sit there. He had wanted to go to church, to pray for his fallen comrades. But the few steps to _Saint-Sulpice_ had been too far away for him and his still weak body had collapsed the first time, as he had tried to reach it. Porthos and Athos who had been walking with him, had more and more steadied his body and in the end Athos had decided to return and Porthos had carried him in his strong arms after his feet had finally given in.

 _"_ _But I want to pray. I need to pray for them."_ He had begged them. Athos had listened carefully and then he had said. "You will be able to pray for them at the garrison _mon ami_."

 _"_ _How? It's different to pray in a church or a chapel, to light a candle, to sing a song, to smell incense, to look at a big cross."_ He had told them and Athos had looked into his big brown teary and exhausted eyes and responded to his pledge:

 _"_ _We will build our own chapel."_ Aramis had tried to protest, but Porthos had stopped him, finding Athos' idea excellent.

Within three days they had built the small chapel. Other comrades had come and helped them with material and their handy work. Aramis had sat next to them, too weak to help, but they wanted to have him around and finally he had realised that it had been their own way to mourn their fallen comrades.

When they had finished they had asked Aramis to tell them how he wanted to have the interior: a small table as an altar, a picture of the Holy Mary that Captain Tréville had brought from the palace, some books with church songs, several small stools and a place, where they could put and light candles. Only a good and big enough cross was missing. They had thought who they could ask. Perhaps the brothers from the nearest convent, but before Tréville could ask around Athos had vanished.

Aramis was worried when he hadn't returned for dinner. He had already assumed that the man was mourning with a glass of wine in a shabby tavern. Porthos had brought him back to his room, but he couldn't find sleep. Around midnight he finally heard a soft knock on his door. Athos had slowly opened the door with a huge item wrapped in a blue cloth in his hand.

 _"_ _Are you still awake?"_ He had asked softly in the darkness and as Aramis told him to come in he had continued: _"_ _Sorry it took me a while but I have found a cross for our chapel. If you approve it I will install it tomorrow morning."_ He had said standing in his room, slowly approaching his bed and showing him finally the perfect crafted cross.

Amazed he had stared at the precious item in the dim candlelight of his room. Searching for words and fighting with his emotions. Of all the Musketeers he would have never expected Athos to bring him a religious symbol. He had heard him much too often whispering in his sleep during a nightmare or in a drunk state that he doubted that God really exists.

 _"_ _I am so glad that you survived, Aramis and I thank the Lord each day for it."_ He had whispered in his ear. _"_ _You have saved me from myself and I will always be in your debt."_ He had softly continued. _"_ _Please, accept that cross as a special gift for our friendship and don't ask me where it came from."_

Aramis had accepted his brother's demand, deeply touched by Athos' words and the gracious gesture he had given him that night, because he was sure that Athos had paid for it.

"I don't want to lose him. Don't take him away from me." Aramis whispered in the darkness of the chapel.

He sat there for several minutes, losing track of time, still fighting with his emotions. Finally he wiped his face with his shirtsleeves and stood up exhausted.

He thought about praying a _Pater Noster_ or an _Ave Maria_ , but the words didn't want to reach his lips. He couldn't. Out of habit he went over to the place where they had stored some candles and lit one. Asking again that Athos should survive. He did it each time, when he had to treat a patient or when a comrade had fallen.

Then he decided it was time to leave their small chapel. If Porthos searched for him it was better to stay near to their bench.

When he returned into the courtyard all the other Musketeers seemed to have gone. He sighed relieved and dropped exhausted on the bench. He realised how tired he was. The sun was shining on his face and for a short moment he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the warmth on his face. But the pleading look of those green eyes haunted him and he hurried to open them again only to hear a noise next to him. A small bowl landed in front of him and he heard the well-known slang of their old cook.

"You have to eat some'ing, boy. He will need you strong and not weak."

"I know Serge, but I am not hungry." Aramis mumbled.

"'en at least drink some water and eat two spoons of my soup." The old man insisted.

Aramis sighed. He knew Serge was right and he forced himself to eat two spoons of Serge's vegetable soup.

"That's it, boy."

Serge encouraged him to eat some more and made no intention to leave him. In fact he was standing in front of him, blocking the sun from shining in his face. Awkwardly the old man observed the marksman and then he asked:

"How's the Captain's boy doing?"

Aramis had to grin for a short moment. Of course Tréville was the father to all of them, but there was a special bond between Tréville and Athos neither of them could really neglect. Nevertheless Aramis was sure that Athos would detest the expression Captain's boy.

"He's better than tonight, but still in much pain, Serge."

"I see."

"What's the doc saying?"

"The doctor says that he has a good chance to recover." Aramis cautiously answered. "But …"

"When the doctor says he will make it, he will make it. I am sure, Aramis. So stop worrying." Serge said with so much confidence in his voice that the medic looked up from his soup.

"He's still very weak, Serge. Why are you so certain?" Aramis asked him.

"Because I know that boy. He's a fighter. Always was, always will be. There's a reason why he's our Lieutenant." He grinned and Aramis could see his open mouth with only three left teeth.

"I hope you are right." Aramis mumbled.

"Of course I am!"

Serge said with so much confidence in his voice, which reached Aramis shaken soul and he was grateful for the old man's support.

"I will prepare some more chicken broth for our patient and you will make sure that he eats it."

The old man grinned at Aramis, then he softly patted his shoulder and left to go back into his kitchen. Aramis looked after the old man.

 _Thank you Serge, I needed that: your words and your food. I feel much better now. Ha Captain's boy I'd better not tell Athos that you called him that._

Aramis thoughts wandered back to the relationship between their Captain and Athos. He remembered his patient's words regarding their Captain during the night and that morning.

 _"_ _Don't tell the Captain!" What did you want to tell me? Is it about the letter?_

"Good grief!"

Aramis suddenly groaned out loud.

He remembered his friend's green eyes. At first the pleading feverish eyes in so deep pain and then the expression in Athos' face changed. The eyes were no longer in pain, but they were sparkling dangerously and staring angrily at him, looking now more blue than green.

Aramis felt dizzy again, his head swirled and he had to breathe in and out several times to get rid of this feeling, while realising what Athos had tried to tell him.

 _It has nothing to do with the letter. You wanted to tell me something else. The whole time … tonight … that morning … and me stupid fool was not able to listen … to follow your words …_

The medic jumped up. He needed to know if he was right and he ran back into the infirmary, not sure, if his brother was already awake again and if he would remember his words at all.

 **XXXXX**

Queen Anne looked irritated at the envelope in her hands which a valet just had brought her.

"What is that?" She asked the young man.

"A letter for you, your Majesty, it was given to a Red Guard yesterday."

"What is it my darling?" King Louis asked his wife. She was sitting next to him in the throne hall.

"Someone has written a letter to me." The Queen answered still confused.

"Oh, come darling, it's not the first time that you receive a letter. What's so special about this one? What does the letter say?" King Louis wanted to know.

"I don't know, I haven't opened it yet, but there are blood spots on it."

Louis turned to his wife and stared at the envelope then he shouted:

"Drop it!"

"Why?" Anne looked astonished at him. "It's only paper."

"It could be poisoned."

Louis made several steps towards his Queen, then he gently opened his wife's fingers, that were holding the letter and the cream-coloured envelope dropped to the floor.

At that moment Cardinal Richelieu entered the hall, bowing slightly into the direction of King Louis. He sensed that something was wrong as he caught the Queen's irritated facial expression.

"Don't you think that if someone had poisoned this letter there wouldn't be blood spots on it?" Queen Anne looked at her husband and shook her head in disbelief.

"We have to be careful, my love, remember we are expecting our first child." Louis explained to her and ordered the valet to retrieve the letter.

"May I ask what this is about?" The Cardinal asked curiously. Coming nearer and looking at the envelope which now lay on the wooden floor.

"Of course you may. My wife received a letter with blood spots on the envelope."

Cardinal Richelieu looked irritatedly at the Queen.

"What does the letter say? Is someone threatening you, your Majesty?"

"We don't know." King Louis answered for his wife, who was still wondering about the content of the letter.

"Who brought the letter?" Richelieu now addressed the young valet, who had put the letter again in his hands, holding it with his white gloves.

"I don't know, Cardinal. One of the Red Guards brought it to me this morning. He said it was given to him for the Queen yesterday evening."

"We should ask the Red Guard who brought this letter." King Louis announced loudly. "Cardinal would you please order him to come here now."

"Of course!" Richelieu nodded and gave the valet a sign to fetch him the man at once. The young man hesitated a short moment not knowing what he should do with the letter, then he put it on a nearby table and hurried away.

Several minutes later a tall thin man, with long blonde hair, about twenty years old, stood in front of the King and Queen. Next to him the young valet gasped for air, because he had run through too many corridors of the palace asking everywhere around.

Cardinal Richelieu looked at his soldier.

"Maurice, can you tell our King and Queen please who gave you that letter?" Richelieu pointed at the envelope which was still lying on the small table.

"Er … I …"

"Don't be shy." Queen Anne addressed him. "We only want to know who brought this letter to the palace."

The young man eagerly shook his head, looking with his brown eyes at the Queen and then started to tell his story.

"It was during dusk yesterday evening. I had just started my shift at the Lion's Gate when a figure approached me and handed me this letter. Your name was written on it so I passed it on."

"Did this person say anything to you?" Cardinal Richelieu asked.

"No." The Red Guard nervously shook his head.

"Did you injure yourself yesterday. Maybe a cut, so that some blood dropped onto the envelope?" The Queen asked with a soft voice.

"No, your Majesty. It was handed to me like this."

"What did this person look like?" Richelieu tried to gather more information.

"I am not sure. The person wore a long dark cape and had covered his head under a hood."

"And this man did not say a word to you?" King Louis now asked impatiently.

"No, your majesty, but I am not sure …"

"What are you not sure about?" The Queen now wanted to know.

"If it was really a man … I had the impression that it was a woman, but of course I could be wrong. You know the archway is not very bright at that time of the day."

Richelieu nodded:

"What makes you think that it was a woman?" His grey-blue intelligent eyes looked at the Red Guard.

"The way the person moved. But of course it could have been a man as well."

"Did you notice anything else unusual besides the blood spots on the letter?" The Cardinal asked.

"It was already getting dark. But I think the person had dark hair and yes … now that you are asking … bright eyes."

"Thank you, you are dismissed." The Cardinal made a gesture with his hand and the soldier retreated.

"What now?" King Louis asked after a moment of silence. "I don't trust this letter and the way it was delivered is more than suspicious to me. I don't want the message to upset you, my darling." Louis looked concerned at his wife.

Since she was pregnant she had been sick several times and he simply didn't know what an upsetting message would do to the emotional state of his wife.

"Don't worry, Louis. I doubt that it contains anything dangerous or upsetting. Perhaps it is only a plea for money. You know these letters." She answered.

"Perhaps we should open it and see what message it contains." The Cardinal suggested.

"That's a good idea, Cardinal." Queen Anne nodded. "Please open it for me." She then asked the young man.

The young valet, about sixteen years old, opened the envelope carefully, breaking the red seal which wasn't bearing a sign. The Cardinal stepped next to the young valet and looked at the written lines while furrowing his brow.

"What does it say?" King Louis now asked impatiently, irritated by the way Cardinal Richelieu's grey-blue eyes widened.

 _To be continued ..._

* * *

Special thanks to my beta Beth xx Kira


	23. Chapter 23

_**Hey there,**_

 _ **thank you so much for reading and reviewing.**_

 _ **The last chapter was a very special one. The idea came out of a sudden and I had to sit down and write it again at once. Think I really like those smaller parts about their backstory.**_

 _ **To those I cannot answer via pm, here is my answer:**_

 _ **Debbie: "I loved the back story on Aramis and them building a church with Athos, of all people, hunting for a cross. I could be wrong but since he had been gone so long in search of one, back then no one but the captain new Athos' own personal story. Perhaps he went back to Pinon. I'm sure his parents had their own chapel for their people on the estate. Athos could have taken the cross from their. Or not. LOL! Just a good guess from me instead of what Aramis' thought that Athos had bought it."**_

 _ **Thank you so much Debbie for your kind words. Yes, Athos doesn't appear as a religious man in the whole series, but there is this one scene in e7s2, where he is crossing himself, when they don't know if Tréville will survive or not. Brilliantly played by Tom Burke. About the cross, of course, you can imagine that he has fetched it from his estate. In my opinion he wasn't ready to return there back then. (See his reaction in e3s1). I think he moreover knew someone in Paris who did a cross for his family several years ago and he went to this man and bought another one and of course this was very expensive. xx**_

 _ **Barbara: "Finally caught up with my reading. It wasn't easy, due to all the tears. Excellent writing as always. Looking forward to next chapter x"**_

 _ **Thank you so much for reading and leaving a comment. I think I owe you an even bigger tissue box now. Hope you won't need tissues in the next chapter. xx**_

 _ **Tricia: "Absolutely brilliant! The description of Aramis despair, his inability to pray in the chapel is so emotive and real. ..had me almost in tears. Also the insight into his relationship with Athos and the bond between them beautifully written."**_

 _ **Thank you so much. Ohhh what is it with us women and tears … ;-)**_

 _ **Glad you loved the chapel scene. Yes I tried to show how Aramis is fighting with God and in these moments sometimes you cannot pray. I think I really love to write Aramis &Athos. Not sure why. I really like their friendship. xx**_

 _ **Thank you so much to Beth for finding my mistakes xx.**_

 _ **So, here comes my next instalment.**_

 _ **Enjoy**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

Porthos wasn't sure how long he had been sitting next to Athos and simply watching his brother sleeping. His eyes closed, his mouth slightly opened, he had curled himself up, direction of his face towards Porthos. The streetfighter's eyes observed the regular rising and falling of his brother's chest.

Athos didn't look like the seasoned and experienced warrior and fearful leader, but more like a frightened boy. He still was shaken by the sight of his brother gasping for air, moaning in obvious pain and the thundering heartbeat he had felt as he had positioned himself next to Athos to calm him again and give him some needed comfort.

Athos' barely audible spoken words that he felt alone and scared had shattered him the most. His friend rarely talked about his feelings and that he omitted deliberately his feelings had shown him how serious the whole situation was.

 _You are not alone, my brother. Whoever did this to you will pay for it! Well … I think the people who have attacked you have already been punished … but I doubt that they were acting on their own, if I could only turn back time …_

 _"_ _What's done is done."_

Porthos heard the voice of his sick friend in his mind. How often had Athos told him that. Too much a realist, too much a man who tried to get rid of his own past. Porthos shook his head. The medicine the doctor had given Athos to drink seemed to work: no nightmares, no restless moving from one side of the bed to the other.

When Athos moaned softly in his sleep Porthos looked up. He expected his friend to wake, but his eyes stayed closed. So he wouldn't be able to give him some more needed water. Porthos remembered that Athos' shirt had felt wet.

 _Let's clean you up while you are still sleeping. Less sweat on your body should help you to heal._

Porthos softly moved his hand on Athos' forehead and checked with his warm hand the temperature of his friend, but the fever hadn't become worse. He stood up from his chair and looked in the room around. He found some fresh towels, water in a bowl that seemed to be clean and a fresh shirt, probably one from Tréville that their Captain must have left earlier.

 _That's Tréville taking care of us even if he's not around. He could have sent other men to check on Château de Fontainebleau but I think he feels guilty too. He shouldn't … Athos has his own thick head … Stubborn as a mule._

He snorted softly.

"How are we going to do this my friend?" He softly addressed Athos, who continued to sleep.

Gently he rolled his friend on some pillows he put his back in a horizontal position. Then he busied himself to remove the light blanket from Athos' upper body and sat down on the mattress to remove the shirt. As he realised that Aramis had already cut some part of it, he decided to cut the rest of it as well.

 _I don't want to cause you any more pain._

Carefully he removed it from Athos' body. Then he started to clean first his sweaty chest with a wet washcloth and then he softly turned his brother back in his previous position and cleaned his back. He noticed the blistered reddish skin on his nape. As gentle as he could he cleaned the sore skin and put some new salve on it. As he had finished he used a fresh towel to wipe away the rest of the water the washcloth had left. Then came the most tricky part: to help his sleeping brother back in a new shirt. The shirt Tréville had left was made of a fine cloth. It felt soft and warm when he touched it. Again Porthos rolled his sleeping friend on the soft pillows, which supported now his back. Then he put the soft cloth over his friend's head and took first one, then the other arm in the sleeves and pulled the cloth down over his upper body, chest and back.

Athos softly moaned but didn't show any signs of waking. For a short moment Porthos considered to put the blanket over his friend's upper body, but he decided against it, because the infirmary was already warm enough.

 _No need to heat you up again._

Porthos gently got up from the mattress and decided to sit down on the chair Aramis had occupied during Athos' ordeal. His thoughts wandered back to the previous day and he searched his mind what Athos had told them about the letter.

 _Are Tréville and d'Artagnan in any immediate danger? Is it that what has upset you so much and caused your panic attack, Athos? You screamed for d'Artagnan last night in your nightmare. Is he in danger? Or was your mind simply too confused? I wish you could have told us … but right now it's more important for your body to heal._

 _Perhaps Aramis is right, but if not … I should gather some men and ride towards the Chateau. Better to be safe than sorry._

Porthos closed his eyes for a moment to think about a strategy and which route the Captain would have probably taken. He looked confused as something touched his hand and pulled on it. He opened his eyes and had a fond smile on his lips. Athos had rolled on his other side. Subconsciously he had searched for the closeness of his friend. With his eyes still closed, he now pulled Porthos' hand with his and placed it on his chest. There he covered it with his and rolled further more in a foetal position.

"Are you awake, my friend? Are you in pain? Is your heart bothering you?"

Porthos softly asked, but the only answer he received was the soft breathing of his brother, now and then interrupted by a soft moan. Porthos could feel Athos' heart beating under his palm. It was slow and steady and it calmed and settled his own stressed nerves. Porthos didn't dare to remove his hand which Athos now had occupied for himself still pressing it on his chest. Suddenly he heard a soft whisper more a whimpering.

"Don't leave ... me alone …" Athos mumbled in his sleep.

Porthos felt some moisture covering his eyes, which he blinked angrily away. His palm was still resting on Athos' chest, while he now softly stroked with his other hand over his friend's hair and softly whispered in his ear.

"I am here Athos. You are not alone and you will be fine again. Promise."

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Near Château de Fontainebleau_**

Captain Tréville watched, with a furrowed brow, behind d'Artagnan as his young Musketeer disappeared deeper in the woods.

 _I really hope he listens to me and is not up to something stupid._

He sighed inwardly. His thoughts drifted off to his injured Lieutenant and he was wondering about Athos state of health.

 _Stop worrying. He will be better by now. We found him in time._

 _I'm wondering if he really knows what has been written in this letter he had to deliver and then to bring back to the palace. The Cardinal wouldn't have sent a Musketeer with such a simple invitation to a party. There must be more to it._

 _Perhaps the Cardinal added a second letter to the letter of the Queen for Don Fernando? Or the Queen …_

Tiredly he drew his hand over his face and massaged his temples for a while.

 _I don't trust this Don Fernando. He is up to something and I doubt that it is something good._

Tréville went over to his horse and searched for his telescope in order to have a better view of the main entrance to the château. For a short moment he thought about going after d'Artagnan asking him to observe the other side of the huge castle, but then he hesitated. The stable was in a building next to the main entrance, if Don Fernando or anybody else wanted to leave in a hurry they would need the horses. So Tréville walked a little deeper in the woods, then he turned to the right, passed by some higher trees until he found the perfect spot to observe the main entrance with the horseshoe stairs and the entrance to the stable.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

Aramis quietly opened the door to the infirmary well aware that Athos would probably still be sleeping. The draught Lemay had prepared for him earlier had been strong. He was taken somehow aback when his eyes wandered to Athos and Porthos and all the euphoria he had minutes ago was blown away. Porthos was somehow crouching next to their sick friend. His right hand pressed against Athos' chest.

Aramis feared for the worst. He rushed over to them.

"Is he in pain again? Does his heart troubles him again?" He asked agitated.

"Shhh … don't wake him, Aramis. He is fine."

"He's anything but fine … he still needs time to be fine again." Aramis stated angrily. "Tell me if he is so fine why is your palm resting on his chest?" Aramis asked anger and worry standing all over his face and his voice breaking.

"Calm down, _mon ami_. The reason why my hand is there is a very easy one." Porthos grinned at Aramis. Then he continued. "You will never believe it, he grabbed it while sleeping and put it there."

"He did what?" Aramis blinked confused.

"He turned around, searched for my hand and put it on his chest and now he doesn't want to give it back to me."

Porthos grinned. He had shifted his own position back from the chair to the cold floor when he found the other position too unpleasant for his own back.

"Maybe he did it because his heart is troubling him again? Has he woken?"

"Aramis. Stop that. I can feel his heart pulsing under my palm calm and steady. No need to worry."

Exhausted Aramis dropped on the chair.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled. "I still fear …"

"I understand you very well."

Porthos answered softly, turning his attention back to their sleeping brother and wondering when he would finally awake so that they could give him water and broth to drink.

"Has he woken at all while I was away, Porthos?"

"Hmm … no, he hasn't. I cleaned his upper body, changed his shirt and the whole time he slept through. I still think he is in pain. He moans from time to time and I think he is deeply shaken up."

"What makes you think that?" Aramis asked quietly.

"He talked to me in his sleep. He asked me …" Porthos swallowed and paused.

"He asked you what?" Aramis urged him.

"To stay, not to leave him alone …" Porthos sighed out loud, blinking some moisture away.

The silence that fell between them was somehow audible. Aramis had hoped that Athos would be better by now.

 _Don't be ridiculous. His body needs time to heal. He had an infected wound, a very high fever, headache and his leg will bother him for the next weeks._

Exhausted he drew his hand through his hair. He wanted to speak to Athos on his own. He felt an urgency to do it, but he knew that he couldn't. He had to be patient. Nevertheless he needed to talk with Porthos and the latter had the same expression in his eyes.

"We need to talk Aramis." Porthos then added, searching his friend's brown eyes.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Near Château de Fontainebleau_**

D'Artagnan went deeper in the woods, he had turned to the left side.

 _This château is too big with so many entrances and exits. I saw the lake and the vast gardens from one of the windows, when we were asked to go into the dining hall. I should ask Tréville if I may sneak into the garden. No … he will not allow that. His order was clear. What can I do? If they want to go to Paris the shortest way is to cross through this wood, but there will be many hidden paths._

D'Artagnan scanned his dark surrounding. A lot of tall trees with long dark green branches darkened this part of the forest. Some of the trees were at least twenty, thirty meters high or even taller. An idea crossed d'Artagnan's mind.

 _All I have to do is to climb one of those high trees. I only need to find one with thick branches, which will carry my weight. Then I can climb high enough to have a better view over the whole château._

D'Artagnan looked around and finally found an old fir with thick enough branches. Without any second thoughts he started to climb the tree. When he realized that his leather gloves didn't help him by having a good grip on the wood, he removed them from his hands. He even thought that his sword and pistols were not practical. He returned down to the safe ground and left them together with his gloves at the bottom of the tree. Then he started to climb the high tree in swift moves again.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

"I know …" Aramis started.

"You might be right that it has nothing to do with the letter, but if … if the letter is the clue to everything then I think Tréville and d'Artagnan are in danger. I will gather some men and ride to the château. We have already wasted enough time." Porthos told Aramis.

Aramis nodded softly.

"I still doubt that they are in danger, but you are right. I will ask Pierre to gather some men. They shall ride to the _Château de Fontainbleau_ and check on the Captain and d'Artagnan." Aramis already wanted to stand up and leave, but Porthos stopped him, with his other hand now on his leg.

"I will go." Porthos announced. "You have to stay with him."

"Er … there could be a problem?" Aramis softly smiled.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Near Château de Fontainebleau_**

Captain Tréville searched with his telescope the whole courtyard of the castle over and over again. He observed several servants, but no one came near to the stables. Finally the main entrance door was pushed open and Don Fernando appeared. He looked furious and headed straight to the stable, shouting orders to two servants who hurried to help them. Several minutes later he rode out of the stable on a white stallion towards his direction.

Tréville already wanted to run back to his horse and shout for d'Artagnan as he noticed Juan leaving now the château in fast steps as well.

 _Oh, well this is going to get interesting. I need to inform d'Artagnan. It's odd that they haven't left together but it seems that both of them are up to something._

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

"What problem. He needs you. I will be back as fast as I can …"

"I didn't mean that." Aramis still grinned. "I think that you will have a problem to leave.

"What?" Porthos asked. "Do you mean I slept too little last night? I am more rested than you." The streetfighter protested.

"Porthos, I didn't mean anything of this, but I fear that Athos won't let you go." Aramis chuckled now softly.

"Why wouldn't he let me go?" Porthos eyes wandered back on his sick friend.

"Try to remove your hand." Aramis asked him.

Porthos tried, but as soon as he gently pulled in order to untangle his palm from under Athos' hand the weak man pressed the hand tighter on his chest.

"Oh …" Porthos exclaimed, looking unbelievingly at their patient. Then he grumbled:

"There must be a way."

He tried it again but Athos held on to his hand, now used his second too, to secure Porthos hand and didn't let go.

"Athos, Aramis is here. You are safe. I need to go, but I will be back in no time." Porthos tried to talk to his still unconscious brother, but no reaction.

"See." Aramis grinned. "… told you so."

"What shall we do now? I don't want to wake him." Porthos sighed and softly stroked with his other hand over Athos' hair, while his friend even curled more up.

Aramis sighed.

"Do you really want to go, Porthos?" Aramis softly asked. "I can still ask Pierre and Henri to go for us." He added, looking at Athos who still clutched Porthos' hand.

"Athos fears that there is something wrong. He has tried to tell us over and over again and each time his state of health worsened. I think I owe it to him to go. Do you understand that? I hate to wake him, but if …"

"I understand you, Porthos." Aramis nodded and pressed then his brother's shoulder. "There is no need to wake him. I know a way. Trust me." He explained.

"How? He doesn't want to let go of my hand. I can't cut it …"

"God behave. He would blame himself for the rest of his life." Aramis chided Porthos. "Stop saying such a thing."

"I only wanted …"

"I know … sorry." Aramis now knelt next to Porthos on the floor. He gently lifted his left hand and brushed with it over Athos's head.

"Hey, my friend, I know you don't want to be alone, right now and you won't be. Promise."

Aramis waited for a reaction from Athos, but it didn't come. Gently he continued to stroke Athos' hair and explained further:

"Porthos has to go. So we will change our hands now. I will put it next to his and the only thing you have to do is let his hand go and grab mine. Can you do this for me?" Aramis whispered softly in Athos' ear.

A soft moan escaped Athos' mouth as the sleeping man could feel the touch of a second hand on his chest, but he didn't wake up.

"I doubt that this will work." Porthos mumbled.

"Wait and see." Aramis murmured. Then he continued to whisper in his friend's ear. "Porthos will be safe. Let him go. He will be back in no time."

Suddenly Porthos could feel that Athos let go off his hand. Very slowly he moved his hand from Porthos and weakly touched Aramis. His fingers fumbled around Aramis wrist, then he pulled his whole right hand and put it on the spot where Porthos hand had rested the past minutes. Aramis could feel Athos steady heartbeat and he sighed inwardly. Then he smiled at Porthos and continued to stroke his friend's hair to calm him.

"That's it. Sleep, rest."

He softly squeezed his friend's hand. For a moment he had the impression that Athos would open his eyes, but the latter continued to stay in his deep sleep.

"You really convinced him." Porthos looked astonished at Aramis.

"Believe me, years of practice."

"Do you know that I would have never expected that from Athos? He is the most intangible man I know. He doesn't like to be touched and he barely endures my hugs."

"He's different when he is suffering and in pain."

Aramis mumbled quietly. He wanted to add something but a knock at the door disturbed them.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Near Château de Fontainebleau_**

D'Artagnan had finally reached a height from where he could have a perfect view over the whole castle. He looked down and felt for a short moment dizzy, realising how high he was.

 _Ohhh … I am glad that Athos doesn't know what I am doing right now. The last time I pulled a stunt like that he ordered me to do his stable duty for one week. I simply won't tell him._

 _I hope he is already on the mend by now._

Carefully he moved forward on a thick branch from where he had a perfect view over the whole château with its courtyard and huge gardens. He admired the beautiful sight of the small lake in front of the other side of the castle. If he squeezed his eyes a little he could even spot two white swans swimming on the lake. The château was mirrored on the blue water. An amazing view, but d'Artagnan's gaze drifted back to the main entrance.

 _If they are smart they'll be expecting us to watch the château. This Juan probably … he's a soldier … I still wonder if Dona Ynes lied to us about the content of the letter. Could it be that Athos only had to deliver an invitation to a garden party? The Queen is pregnant … would she plan such an event._ He could hear Constance loud voice. " _Of course she can do this and that … she is not ill … only pregnant … men ..." But why then send a Musketeer to deliver the letter … it could have been brought by a valet … I have never heard before that the Queen had demanded us to deliver a letter for an invitation …_ D'Artagnan was lost in his thoughts.

From time to time he checked on the other exits of the château, but except for some servants and valets he did not spot anybody coming out of it. Finally he noticed Don Fernando leaving the main entrance and hurrying over to a stable. D'Artagnan already wanted to shift his position and climb down again from the high tree, when he suddenly felt that he was being watched. He stopped moving around. The Gascon had no idea who would be watching him at such a height, but the odd feeling wouldn't leave him and he carefully turned his head to the trunk in order to observe his environment more closely.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

Porthos who had stood up in the meantime and stretched his back turned his head towards the door.

"Come in." He quietly called.

The door was softly pushed open and Henri arrived with a steaming soup tureen in his hands. A little insecure he stepped into the infirmary looking nervously towards Athos.

"Serge asked me to bring this to you." He explained whispering and then added. "How's the Lieutenant?"

"Thank you Henri, just put it on the table over there." Aramis pointed with his eyes towards a nearby table. "Athos is resting for now. The night was very unpleasant for him, but the doctor believes that he will recover."

"Thank God." Henri exclaimed a little too loud. "We are all very worried about him. The others are asking how we can help."

He added softly his eyes still resting on Athos' closed eyes and much too pale face.

"I will let you know, if I need more help."

Aramis smiled at the experienced soldier. He valued the older Musketeer for his wisdom, calm aura and knowledge.

"Is the Captain already back?" Porthos asked.

"No. Or at least I haven't seen him, but I really think he would have come first to you." Henri now smiled. "I will go and inform the others."

Henri said as he reached the door and turned towards Aramis.

"Oh, before I forget, Aramis, there is an attractive woman waiting for you at the gate. She has asked for you." Henri added.

"Has she told you her name and what she wants from me?" Aramis asked.

"No. She didn't want to say."

"Tell her to leave a message and where I can reach her. I can't come right now."

Aramis added calmly, pointing at his patient and looking up from the floor he has now positioned himself, back towards the bed, while he felt Porthos' angry gaze upon him.

Henri nodded and hurried away, closing gently the door of the infirmary again.

"For Christ's sake, Aramis, a woman? Now … had you forgotten about a date last night?" Porthos snorted.

"Shhh … not so loud." Aramis chided him. "Not that I am aware of. I am seeing no one right now." He added annoyed.

"Why do I doubt that?" Porthos mumbled more to himself. "I swear to you, one day, one of these women will be your grave." Porthos mumbled.

"Perhaps it was important." Aramis tried to justify himself. "But right now Athos is my number one priority. Maybe you can find out what she wants." Aramis suggested.

Porthos nodded softly.

"I will. Sorry about that … I think I need more sleep. I should go now."

Porthos walked over to the other side of Athos' bed then he bent down over his friend's ear and whispered:

"Get better, Athos." He squeezed softly his friend's shoulder, straightened himself again and walked over to the door. "Take good care of him."

"I will and you stay safe, Porthos!" Aramis said and watched his brother leaving.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Near Château de Fontainebleau_**

Tréville returned to his horse in a hurry.

 _Strange d'Artagnan should be with me by now. I am sure that he has watched both men to leave the château as well._

After Tréville had put his telescope back in his saddlebag he heard a loud noise just as if something big had dropped down. Probably a raptor who had dropped a dead mouse or moreover a rabbit. The sound had been pretty loud. Not sure what he would be dealing with he drew his pistol and went deeper in the woods. Well aware that he would now lose precious time in following Don Fernando and Juan, but he needed to check and the fact that d'Artagnan hadn't appeared by now left an odd feeling in his stomach.

The deeper he went into the wood the louder he could hear a noise that followed the loud bang. What had been a very quiet sound at first, turned out now to be a soft moaning.

But that was not the only sound Tréville could hear. He imagined that he heard the breathing of a horse, which stamped over the forest ground. Then he could hear its hooves. Not knowing what to expect, Tréville drew his sword, ready to attack whoever could be behind the next tree. The seasoned soldier could feel that something was very wrong and that he had to be careful. Inwardly he prayed that d'Artagnan had not stepped into a trap and was alright.

At first Tréville thought that perhaps a wounded animal caused this sound, but as he walked round another big tree he gasped loud and then hurried over to the origin of the sound.

"D'Artagnan!" Tréville shouted his voice filled with concern for his youngest Musketeer.

 _D'Artagnan … no … what has happened to you … were you hit by an arrow as well?_

Captain Tréville wondered while dropping next to his moaning soldier on the forest ground that was covered with leaves, while softly calling his name and gently turning d'Artagnan on his back.

 ** _To be continued_** ** _..._**


	24. Chapter 24

_Hey there, I am back with the next chapter. Thank you for reading and leaving a review._

 _To Debbie: Thank you for your lovely review. Oh yes about the stable duty you might be right. More about d'Artagnan and of course Athos in this chapter._

 _Enjoy_

 _Xx Kira_

* * *

 **Chapter 24**

After Henri had informed the woman - who was waiting near the bench, which lead to the stairs of the Captain's office - that Aramis hadn't had any time for her she simply nodded and left the courtyard. Now outside she waited undecidedly behind a thick tree trunk and gathered her thoughts. From time to time she looked over to the entrance of the archway observing the men who left the garrison. She had hoped to talk with the Musketeer's medic in a quiet moment, but her plan hadn't worked yet. Angrily she stroked some strands out of her face and stroked them behind her ears.

 _What shall I do now? I need to know. I can't go. There must be another way. But how? No one must see or recognise me ..._

The woman wore a dark cape over her expensive dark blue dress, which matched with her dark brown hair and her bright eyes. Patiently she waited several more minutes hoping that no one would wonder why she was hiding behind a tree, but there were only a few people at some nearby market stalls and they were busy with buying goods. Finally she made up her mind and decided to hide in the stable of the garrison and wait there for the right moment to go into the infirmary. She assumed that she would find the medic there.

So the woman covered her brown hair with a dark green headscarf and waited for the right moment to steal her way back into the courtyard and further into the stables. There she hid behind several hay bales and watched the courtyard. She could hear the sounds of the horses next to her, watching her curiously and snorting from time to time, not sure what they should think of this intruder. She hoped and prayed that a stable boy would not detect her.

Outside in the courtyard she could see several Musketeers talking, but she couldn't hear them. A big strong Musketeer appeared who started to give orders. With his loud voice he shouted several names and five men gathered around him.

She could hear scraps of conversation like _the Captain … we must hurry … they might be in danger ... saddle our horses._

The young woman knelt down behind one of the hay bales, when she realised that the men were coming over to the stable. One minute later she was directly behind the strong man, with the dark curly hair. He was busy with saddling his horse and didn't notice her. She held her breath and closed her eyes for a short moment. The woman already considered stepping out of the dark and talking to this Musketeer, but she hesitated.

 _No, I can't, there are too many other men. It's not safe enough._

Porthos moved to another black stallion next to his -unaware that he was being watched - and gently stroked over his neck. As the horse watched him with his dark intelligent eyes, Porthos gave him an apple.

"I know you are worried about Athos, Roger. But he will be alright again."

Porthos whispered in the horse's ear. Then he turned around, mounted his own horse and shouted orders towards the other five men.

When the Musketeers had finally left, the woman felt her legs trembling. Exhausted she sank down to the floor and sat there for a while, staring in the dark.

 _Thank God he survived._

She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she angrily wiped them with the back of her right hand away.

 _Anyway I need to talk to the medic._

The woman shook her head. She was preparing to leave her hideout in the dark stable when she heard a noise. It wasn't coming from the horses. Another person was with her in the stable. Out of reflex her hand moved to the small dagger she had hidden under her cape, ready to defend herself. Her eyes and ears wide open she listened in the darkness, waiting for the other person to come nearer, to attack her, to shout at her. But nothing. She couldn't hear anything. Nevertheless she was ready to injure or kill the person in order to flee the stable and the garrison. She felt her heart pulsing faster in her chest and she hoped that the loud throbbing she heard in her ears wouldn't be audible for anyone else.

XXXXX

The first thing that Athos registered when he finally returned to consciousness were different smells hanging in his nose: soap, the sweet smell of honey, cognac and the salty taste of blood.

 _Blood … I must be in the infirmary … right my blood._

Athos felt the pain in his thigh and as he lay hoping that it would disappear, his breathing changed into more deep breaths. Memories flooded back into his mind from the previous day and night and all he could do was to groan out loud as realization hit him.

 _I'm a stupid fool. Why? Why on earth did I behave so unprofessionally?_

He felt a shiver running down his spine as he became more and more agitated and his tired head tried again to pull him into another sleep. For a moment he tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt too heavy and so he gave up. He started to toss his head around to find a more comfortable position on the soft pillow but he paused when he suddenly felt a soft touch on his hair.

 _Aramis … or Porthos … they have not left me alone … it's Aramis … I can hear him humming … I can hear his melodic voice. What's he saying? He's trying to calm me …_

Aramis looked up and noticed that Athos was struggling to open his eyes. When his brother started to become more restless moving his head from one side to the other, he softly put his hand on the thick hair, hummed a calming tune and stroked gently over his friend's head.

"Easy my friend, there is no reason to hurt yourself further." He mumbled softly in his ear.

The medic had noticed the first signs several minutes earlier that his friend was about to wake after Athos finally removed his hand from Aramis' and let it drop sluggishly away from his chest on the mattress.

Aramis wasn't sure how long he had now been sitting on the mattress, next to his friend, slightly bent over him, so that he could more easily lay his hand in the position Athos wanted to have it. He could feel his calm and steady heartbeat under his now cold palm. Now and then Athos had moaned in his deep sleep, but he hadn't been restless and the fever seemed to have finally vanished. The strong medicine Lemay had given him seemed to work.

"Come on, open your eyes for me. You have slept long enough."

Aramis encouraged Athos knowing very well that he needed to give him more tea and broth to drink. He could see Athos' eyelids fluttering, but they had still not opened. He tried it again, softly stroking over his friend's cheek with his thumb.

"Come on. That's it. Open your eyes. It's already noon. You need to eat and drink something."

"Hmm …" Athos mumbled, but his eyes stayed closed.

 _I can hear you Aramis, but I am so tired. I know we need to talk. I have to explain … I have to apologise for all of this._

Aramis sighed loudly and stopped stroking his friend's cheek.

 _Maybe it's the medicine the doctor gave you. Maybe that's stopping you from waking up completely. We need to talk Athos, but first you need more fluids in your body._

Aramis stood up and considered trying to give Athos some water to drink while he still was sleeping, but he wasn't sure if Athos would swallow the water. So he hesitated, staring down on him. The sun was now flooding the entire infirmary. The room had heated up and Aramis wanted to close the windows and the curtains, Athos' firm grip on his hand had stopped him doing it earlier.

He examined Athos' face. It was still pale, but the sweat on his forehead was finally gone and his breathing evened out again. As he watched his closed eyes he could see that Athos was still trying to open them. Carefully he bent over his friend and encouraged him again.

 _I need to wake for you Aramis. I need … if I could only manage to open my eyes. My head is not spinning that much and it hurts less … I should be able … to open them … at least for a few minutes. I don't want you to worry about me._

"That's it. Come on. You can do this. Open your eyes for me. I want to see them open."

Slowly very slowly Athos finally managed to open his eyes half way. He stayed silent as the shadow in front of him suddenly turned out to be his friend and brother bending over his face and smiling at him. Concerned brown eyes and a too forced smile finally greeted him. Athos followed with his eyes Aramis' hand, which he now stretched out again in order to stroke over his head.

 _You know that I am not a dog, Aramis, you don't need to stroke over my hair._

Athos opened his mouth and tried to say something but the only sound he could hear was an odd croak. His mouth was much too dry and hurt him.

"You …" Was all he managed the second time.

"Shhh … you must be thirsty. Wait some water will help you to speak more clearly." Aramis whispered in his ear.

Then he reached for a cup, filled it and pressed it to Athos lips, while putting his other hand behind his back, helping him to lift his upper body a little. Athos eagerly drank several sips then he turned his head away and tried to clear his throat again.

"Thanks." He gasped.

Aramis helped him back on the pillow.

"You are welcome, my friend. How do you feel?"

He cautiously asked, now observing his friend's facial expression for any signs of pain.

"I doubt that you believe me ... if I say fine." Athos whispered still trying to get rid of his dry throat.

Aramis smiled and pressed the cup again at his lips.

"You need to drink more. It will help your throat. I have put some honey in the water, so it will help."

Athos nodded and drank some more sips.

"So how do you feel?" Aramis tried it again.

"Better than earlier, I believe." Athos mumbled.

Aramis sat down on the chair next to his friend, took the cup away again and searched his friend's eyes.

"How's your head?"

"Hurting less and I don't feel sick anymore."

"And your leg?"

"As long as I don't move it, I don't feel any pain." Athos carefully answered.

"What's the last you remember?" Aramis' brown eyes searched Athos' green, still smiling at his patient and finally glad that Athos had woken and could speak to him.

"There was a doctor here ... checking on me ... and giving me ... a pain draught … Lemay … that was his … name." Athos managed to say after several moments of thinking.

Aramis nodded then he pressed his friend's shoulder.

"Good. I am glad to hear that your memory seems to have returned." Aramis waited a moment, still searching his friend's eyes for any signs of pain or confusion, then in his melodic, caring voice he softly added: "You have worried me for a while. You know that."

Aramis searched for Athos' hand and pressed it gently, which the latter accepted in pressing weakly back.

"I know. I'm so …" Athos wanted to answer, but he was interrupted by the medic.

"Stop that!" Aramis chided him softly.

Athos went silent and they stayed like that for several minutes, each of them thinking about what had happened the past hours. Then Athos turned his head to Aramis and said:

"I … I need …"

Aramis raised an eyebrow wondering for a moment what Athos wanted, until he finally understood, while Athos' eyes had wandered down his body and stayed on his stomach.

"I will help you. Wait. I will fetch the chamber pot."

"Can't you help me up? I can walk over ..." Athos' eyes pleaded with his friend.

"Sorry my friend, but I think you should rest your wounded leg. Remember the last time you sat up on your own, you nearly ended up on the cold floor."

"You could help me with Porthos. I could lean on him and try to walk over …" Athos paused then he looked in the room around. "Where is Porthos?"

 _Please no, of course you ask for Porthos and soon you will ask for d'Artagnan and Tréville. I hope that them having left won't agitate you again. You need rest. What shall I tell you … as much information as possible. This way you won't get upset._

"He had to leave but he will be back soon." Aramis answered evasively.

Athos knew that Aramis wouldn't tell him more and he had more urgent business right now, when he felt his pressing bladder hurting more and more. Slowly he tried to sit up on the bed, but his head protested at once and he felt dizzy again. Exhausted he dropped back on the pillow.

Aramis who had just turned his back to his friend heard his small whimper, which had escaped his lips and he couldn't suppress. The medic turned his head seeing Athos' face in pain.

"What are you doing?" He asked, hurrying back to his injured friend's side.

"I tried to sit up." Athos panted, then he rolled his eyes as he noticed Aramis concerned gaze upon him. "Stop that look, Aramis, please." Athos tried.

"I told you to rest and wait. Lie still, I will fetch the chamber pot and then I will help you."

Athos wanted to nod but he decided it would be wise to just listen to Aramis' advice this time and simply stay like that. With his eyes he followed Aramis leaving again, only to return several seconds later with the item he needed. Aramis put the pot on the floor then he removed the thin blanket from his brother and started to help him out of his braries. All the while he didn't say a word. When he had finally removed the undergown he turned to Athos.

"Wait I will help you to sit up on the bed, then you lean on my shoulder and I will lift your legs over the edge of the bed."

"Aramis, really?" Athos tried to protest in a very calm tone while he was grateful for the caring help of his brother.

Aramis looked up and their eyes locked.

"Yes, my friend, really, I can see that you are still in pain and I don't want to see you to suffer even more." He answered quietly. Then he went behind Athos, helped to lift his back, until Athos was in a sitting position. He stuffed several pillows to his back. Athos stayed as still as possible fearing that the lightheadedness would reappear, but it didn't come back. Exhausted he rested his head on Aramis' chest, when his friend started to help him with his legs putting now both of his arms around Aramis' shoulders, to have a better hold.

Aramis felt the warm forehead of his friend on his shirt. For a short moment he paused with what he was doing and simply comforted Athos in his now sitting position feeling his friend's breathe on his neck.

"Are you ready?" He softly asked.

"Move on. My head isn't spinning anymore." Athos whispered, still grateful for Aramis' fussing over him.

Then Aramis helped him with his legs, pulling them gently over the white sheet to the corner of the bed until they hung over it and Athos' feet now touched the cold floor. After he was sure that Athos could sit on his own without collapsing, he softly removed his friend's arms from his shoulders and gave him a sign that he would stand up. Athos tiredly raised his head from his chest.

"Don't put pressure on your left foot, it will irritate the wound." Aramis explained, helping his brother in a more comfortable sitting position. Then he pointed at the chamber pot on the floor. "I believe you will manage without me. I need to organise fresh broth and some other food for you. I will be back in five minutes."

 _It's better if I give him some space. He's been through that much and he needs to come back to his own strength. He says he doesn't feel dizzy anymore and I think he's telling me the truth. Besides he really need to eat something. I can risk it and leave him alone for several minutes. He's not a little child but a Musketeer._

Before Athos could protest, Aramis had reached the door, opened it and left, knowing very well that he wanted to give his friend some dignity back and knowing that it would help his brother to feel more himself.

 _Thank you my friend you know me too well._

Athos looked behind Aramis. Deep down he was grateful for this moment of privacy. By moving as little as possible he finally emptied his pressing bladder. Undecidedly he stayed at the corner of the bed, not knowing if he should move or not fearing that the strong pain in his head would return.

After waiting several minutes, he decided, he should give it a try, busying himself with pulling his braies back on, then he shifted his position, pulled his legs back under the thin blanket and laid down again. His head wasn't spinning anymore and he breathed a sigh of relief when he finally understood that he was better at last. Aramis had been right, that his thigh was still hurting, but the pain was only dull. His headache had disappeared and he felt less sleepy.

 _What a day and night? Only because I thought I could fulfill this simple mission on my own. Don't be silly Athos! I could have been injured even if Aramis, Porthos or d'Artagnan had been with me. Nevertheless I was more than stupid and they have every reason to be angry with me._

XXXXX

D'Artagnan stared frightened into two big yellow eyes and those eyes stared frightened back at him. The young man realised that he had to move very quickly. The owl, which he had obviously disturbed, was ready to attack him, already spreading its wings. Its yellow beak and its claws looked dangerous.

For a moment d'Artagnan couldn't think clearly. In the blink of an eye he had forgotten about Don Fernando, he didn't notice Juan coming after the Don. All that mattered was to protect himself from the big raptor.

He rapidly tried to climb down the tree, with his feet he could feel the thick branches on which he had been sitting and he quickly swung over one side of the branch and started to climb down. The owl came nearer and nearer and started to pick at his left hand.

D'Artagnan let go of the branch and lost his balance. Before he knew what was going on he felt that he was falling. Frantically he reached with both of his hands for other branches but it only partially worked. The wood dug deep in his hands, leaving them bleeding as he slipped down more and more branches, not able to reach the trunk of the tree to get a safe grip. The owl didn't follow him anymore.

D'Artagnan felt more and more branches hitting his body, as he tumbled down the tree. He tried to raise himself up, but it was too late. Finally his body touched the soft ground of the forest. All he could think of in that moment was not to scream out loud in order not to alert anyone from the château and so he braced himself and managed to suppress the loud scream.

He landed with his feet first on the forest ground his right foot hit a root of the tree. He gasped out as he felt a hot pain running through his foot and knee. Then he collapsed in a heap on the dirty floor, face first. Slightly dazed from the impact, he closed his eyes. He felt his whole body in pain and started to moan softly.

XXXXX

A soft knock on the door made Athos look up and Aramis appeared with a steaming bowl in his hands. He smiled when he noticed that Athos was lying back on the bed.

"Be careful. It's hot." He stated, sitting the bowl on a small table next to Athos' head. Then he bent down, to remove the chamber pot. After a minute he returned.

"I think we wait five more minutes with the soup. Serge has prepared a minestrone for you. And here is some fresh bread as well. It will do you good."

Athos nodded slightly.

"Is your head better?"

"Yes, the dizziness has finally left me."

"I am glad to hear that." Aramis looked now more relaxed than minutes before. The grave expression in his eyes had disappeared.

The medic stayed silent again, searching for the right words, how to move on. He had thought over and over again, while watching his sick friend sleeping, how he should address him? How should he start the topic about the letter? But now all his thoughts had been blown away. He was simply glad that Athos seemed to be much better which was the only thing that mattered in the end. Not able to sit still any longer he stood up and started to remove the blanket from Athos' body.

"What are you doing?" Athos asked softly.

"I need to check on your wound. Renew the salve and the bandage."

Aramis answered without looking in his friend's eyes. The reality that he had nearly lost his friend that night, now hit him with all possible force, and he didn't want Athos to see his tears, which were welling up again. Athos who understood very well, why Aramis couldn't look at him, straightened himself, moving back into a sitting position and laid his right hand on Aramis' shoulder.

"Stop it, for a moment, will you." He asked quietly and Aramis paused, without turning his head towards his friend.

"I am deep in your debt. You saved my life and I haven't been able to thank you yet." He softly mumbled in Aramis' ear. "Thank you, _mon ami_. I was such a fool. Can you forgive me?"

Aramis froze in his position, feeling now the tears finally running over both of his cheeks, but he wasn't able to wipe them away. He felt Athos' palm now resting on his back. Aramis sobbed out loud and Athos' could feel the tremors running over his brother's back. He stayed silent, slightly taken aback by his brother's emotions and searching for the right words, which didn't want to come in his mind.

"I know why you did it."

Aramis finally said, wiping his tears with both hands away, which he shuffled off on the fabric of his trouser, then he turned his head and looked in Athos' pale face.

"It was a stupid idea and I am very sorry." Athos silently answered. "I only wanted to protect you."

"Don't you know that I can look after myself, too, Athos?" Aramis softly chided him, as the latter removed his hand from his back.

"I know, but sometimes …"

"Sometimes I am driven by my emotions such as you are driven by yours."

Aramis finished Athos sentence, gently pressing his friend's cold hand.

"You know, when I was lying there on the dirty floor, not sure, if I would survive or not …" Athos paused fighting with his own emotions "… all I wished was that I could get the chance to apologise to you. I have hurt you yesterday morning and I am sorry. I understand you so well, my brother." Athos paused, gulping and feeling his throat drying out again.

Aramis who noticed his friend's discomfort, took up the cup again and pressed it into Athos' hands.

"Drink." He encouraged him. "You have lost a lot of fluids. Your body needs more water, to heal properly."

Athos accepted the cup and put it to his lips, feeling his hands slightly trembling, but he wasn't sure if it was caused by his still weak body, or his own upset emotions. He considered that it had to do with probably both. When Aramis saw the trembling fingers, he stabilised his friend's hands, with his own and waited patiently, while Athos was emptying the cup. Then he removed it out of his hands and put it back on the small table.

"We should try it now with the soup." Aramis quietly said, but Athos shook his head.

"Let's talk first. I … you … we both need to talk about it, please."

Aramis nodded:

"You are right."

"With what?"

"That we need to talk about it: the letter …"

 ** _To be continued_** ** _…_**

* * *

 ** _Many thanks to my beta Beth xx Kira_**


	25. Chapter 25

**_Hey I am back with the next chapter._**

 ** _I am sorry for the delay! RL …_**

 ** _Thank you to all of you who are reading and reviewing._**

 ** _To guest: Glad you liked the chapter more to come …_**

 ** _To Debbie: I was laughing at Athos getting irritated with Aramis about petting his hair and grouching at the medic that he was not a dog. Ha ha ha!  
Ouch! I hurt for every branch d'Art hit on the way down and now he'll be lucky if all he gets out of the fall is bumps, bruises and a badly sprained ankle and also strained muscles in that leg. Unless he broke bones in his foot with that awkward landing.  
And yes, Athos, you really do need to discuss what was in that letter._**

 ** _Thank you so much for your long review xxx. Oh yes Athos doesn't like to be treated like a dog. Lol Poor d'Artagnan. He will be in the next chapter but more of him in ch 26. I try to post it as soon as I can, promise xx_**

 ** _Well about the letter, maybe you will find out more about it in the next chapter._**

 ** _Enjoy xx_**

 ** _Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 25**

Juan heard a loud noise next to him. He had just entered the dark forest on his horse. Something had dropped down off a tree next to him. The Spanish soldier just had mounted his horse and was in a haste to follow Don Fernando. He didn't want the Comte to see him, so he had decided to take a different path into the woods.

Now he paused, drew his weapon and looked irritatedly around. His eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness of the forest. His brown horse stamped nervously with his hooves on the ground.

Slowly he moved nearer into the direction where he had heard the loud sound so that he could see what had fallen down from the tree. The young Musketeer was lying directly in front of him. Face down, his arms spread like the wings of an eagle and his main gauche was still attached at the back on a leather belt. The young man didn't move, but moaned softly.

 _I was right. Of course they did not believe Don Fernando. They were watching us … What shall I do now?_ An evil grin flickered over his lips.

For a short moment he considered killing the young man. It would have been an easy task. One shot with his pistol into his head and the young Musketeer would cause no more trouble. He was an easy target.

 _You are a stupid fool. Obviously much too young to be a Musketeer ... I could easily kill you._

But something stopped him and it was not only the noise of another man approaching … the Captain of the Musketeers. He felt that it was somehow wrong to kill a Musketeer. He would be in great trouble. But he wanted to teach the young soldier a lesson. So he bent down over the semi-conscious body of the young man and removed the main gauche from his belt. It was an expensive weapon. Something he would put to his collection of stolen arms.

 _You are lucky young man and whoever has gifted to you this dagger will be angry with you … this will teach you a lesson. Odd that his sword and pistol are missing. No, I won't kill you._

 _That Lieutenant is another problem … we were asked to kill him … but this … no the more people we kill … the more they will come after us and hunt us down. Musketeers don't die easily they say … and I don't want to be followed for the rest of my life._

He stowed his drawn pistol away in his belt, then he put the main gauche in his saddlebag mounted again and gave his horse with his feet the sign to move on. He managed to leave several seconds, before Tréville reached d'Artagnan.

 **XXXXX**

"Meoww"

The woman angrily put her dagger away, when she realised that a cat had caused the noise previously. Now the small animal was stroking along her legs and purring loudly, when she didn't react to the animal it started to complain.

 _Good grief, a cat, a little cat is making me nervous … I'm overtired and I need to sleep. Funny, I nearly killed this cat. Stop complaining … I won't harm you._

"Be quiet, cat! I don't have food for you. Go and chase some mice, but leave me in peace."

She talked aloud to the cat, then she bent down, lifted the small animal, gently petted her head and sat it down again on a nearby hay bale. The cat shook itself, started to lick her legs and ignored the woman, who obviously had no food for her.

 _What am I doing here? I should have been on my way to Le Havre by now, but instead I am back in Paris, back near the man who nearly killed me …_

 _I have to be careful if the Cardinal finds out that I have returned he will kill me._

The woman sat down on the other hay bale.

 _But I need to know … why … why did they try to kill him? I was too late to help him._

 _Why do I still care? He tried to kill me again … well, alright that was after I tried to murder him first, but he spared my life … he could have ended my life so easily with his sword … but he didn't … he … he still loves me … that's why he couldn't kill me …_

"He's not worth it … madame … go and find another man …"

Milady was interrupted by a voice talking to her that made her jump. She hadn't heard the man approaching her. Now she noticed the old man, who was standing directly in front of her.

"Pardon?"

She asked, surveying the old man, he was lower than her and talking with a heavy accent. He barely had a tooth left and was about sixty.

"You are a much too respectable madame, maybe even a court-lady, to get involved with our charming marksman." The old man told her.

"What are you talking about?" Milady angrily answered, already thinking about a plan how to leave.

"I saw you earlier talking with Henri. You asked to speak to Aramis." Serge told her. "You left, but returned again and now you are hiding in our stable and waiting." He grinned, then he continued: "But, Aramis is busy today. You won't be lucky. He's not only a very good marksman, but our medic as well and right now he's taking care of one of his comrades, who was injured. Go home, madame." Serge repeated.

Milady finally understood this old Musketeer must think that she was a love interest of Aramis. Of course she knew about the rumours that Aramis was a well-known womanizer, who had many girl-friends.

 _Maybe this way I'll get my chance to talk to Aramis._

"I need to speak to him, it's urgent. Only five minutes. Please … I think my husband knows … I have to warn him …"

Milady tried, looking now shy and speaking with a broken, barely audible voice, imitating a woman, who was fighting with her tears.

"I'm sorry, madame, but he's not available right now. You can leave him a message and I will give it to him. But, if you are married … it will be the best to go back to your husband and don't see Aramis again." Serge told her.

"But … he might be … in danger." She tried again.

"Look, I understand … believe me … it's not the first time that Aramis has had troubles with a husband and you are not the first woman appearing here …" He looked into Milady's green eyes, then he continued. "Can you write? I will fetch you paper and ink and you can write your message down for him."

Milady nodded.

 _It seems to be the only way. I can ask Aramis to meet me tonight in a tavern._

"Why don't you go over to the table, where you have waited earlier. It's easier to write a message."

Again Milady nodded and left slowly the stable, while Serge hurried away to fetch her the writing items. For a short moment Milady considered sneaking herself into the infirmary, but then she decided against it. Instead she went over to the bench, as she was told, and sat down.

 _No, Athos, you asked me to leave, you never want to see me again._

She sighed loudly.

 _You were hit by this arrow and you didn't look good when I saw you lying there, under that tree, but I could not help. Those men were too many, three against one and your brothers were already arriving. I had to hide._

 _If they hadn't appeared … I would have … but … it was better this way ..._

Milady again shook her head angrily, when she realised that some moisture was now appearing in her eyes. Angrily she wiped her eyes with a white handkerchief.

 _Going in there now, will probably only upset him …_

 _No … I'll wait here ..._

 _Porthos said that he will be alright again … but nevertheless I want to know who did this to you and why? The man in the woods said they were paid to murder you. But why?_

 _I had to bring the letter to the Queen. That was the least I could do for you._

 _Maybe I should have opened the letter and read it?_

 _Maybe then I would know, who was behind the assault on you?_

 _If I find out … I swear I will kill this person … survive … please Athos … you must survive ..._

"Here you are!"

Milady was driven out of her thoughts, when she heard the voice of the old man, who approached her with ink and paper.

"Thank you."

Milady looked up. Then she started to write a note to Aramis, wondering what she should write and if Aramis would really come. She knew she had to give him a reason to meet her and so she wrote:

 _I know who did this to Athos. Come and meet me in the Wren at nightfall tonight. M._

She folded the paper carefully and gave it to Serge.

"No one but Aramis is allowed to read this, or my life will be in danger. Do you understand that?" She hissed in a serious tone towards Serge and the old man nodded. "Promise me." Milady claimed and Serge answered her:

"I promise you, madame."

Milady stood up and wanted to leave as the old man stopped her.

"Forget him."

"I can't."

Milady answered. Knowing that Serge was talking about Aramis, but she was only thinking of Athos.

"I don't know, but Aramis, is still searching and if you are married you are not the right woman for him. So, better leave or you will both only hurt each other."

Milady laughed out loud.

"I'll never be able to forget him."

She answered, then without thanking or turning back towards Serge, she hurried away. The old cook only shook his head.

 _Aramis, I know you had many women the past years, but this woman … she's dangerous. I can sense that. Why do I have the impression that I have seen her somewhere before …_

Serge scratched his head, then he continued thinking about that woman and Aramis.

 _I don't know why, but I have to tell our dear medic, to stay away from her. Maybe I shouldn't give him this note, but I have promised … But I will wait. I won't give it to you now. You have other things to worry about right now._

The old cook had seen many women appearing at the garrison and waiting for one of the Musketeers in the past years. Some shy, some demanding. Sometimes angry and upset, because their favourite man had forgotten a date, sometimes completely blind that their relationship was nothing but an affair that had already been over before it really begun.

Aramis was not the only Musketeer, who had several lady friends, as Serge liked to call them, but Aramis had more than once been in trouble because of a woman. He admired the charming young man. He was good to a woman, could read them, could talk with them the way they wanted to be addressed. Serge had always wondered why Aramis had had so many girlfriends in the past years. He was not sure if the marksman was still searching for the right woman, or if he had lost the love of his life years ago and was trying to find this love again.

Anyway in the past weeks Aramis had been not seeing a woman and so he started to wonder if this woman had really told him the truth. Was there really an envious husband that could be dangerous for Aramis? And if so had this crazy husband confused Aramis with Athos? Was this husband responsible for the assault on Athos?

Serge unconsciously scratched his scalp with his right hand staring at the letter in his hand.

 _This message is important. Maybe I should report this whole incident with that strange woman to our Captain first. Aramis is busy right now. The garrison is a safe place. An envious husband won't come here. The message has to wait. I'll speak to the Captain first._

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

"Yes, the letter … I know it has disappeared somehow, I have no idea when and how? I must have lost it." Athos looked distracted in the distance while driving with his left hand through his hair.

"You asked me to deliver the letter, because it was addressed to the Queen, didn't you? So, so that I could talk with her and ask her if … if …"

"If the child she is expecting is yours." Athos quietly answered, after looking carefully around in the room to make sure that they were really alone. "I know you need to know …" Athos sighed and a small smile hushed over his lips which touched Aramis' heart. Knowing that Athos barely smiled.

"You know me so well." Aramis shook his head.

"I know that deep down in your heart you wish that it is your child. But you know Aramis, even if it is yours … it will always be the King's child. You know that." Athos softly added pressing his friend's leg.

More tears were running down Aramis' face and Athos wished he had the power to stand up and simply embrace his friend, but he was still too weak.

"Yes, I know." Aramis mumbled.

"If the others ever find out your life will be in danger, Aramis. This secret has to stay between us, until the end … the end of our lives." Athos stated in a firm voice. "Do you hear me?" His green eyes now searched again Aramis' and they rested for a long while on them.

The friends looked at each other and in their look there was so much unsaid between them, which they didn't need to speak out loud, because they knew each other so well. Finally Aramis bent his head and asked in a broken voice:

"That's why you said don't tell Tréville. You feared that I would tell him the whole story."

"I have no idea if I had said any of what had happened at the Convent while my fever was that high." Athos explained.

"No, you haven't and even if … we could always have explained that the high fever made you talking nonsense. Nobody would have believed you … well … nobody except Porthos." Aramis softly chuckled. "You know, I think you are wrong. I think we should tell them. It is my doing and this huge secret … it's …causing us to lie … to argue … it's ... it's bringing us into dangerous situations … like this ... It … it nearly killed you …"

Aramis put both of his hands on his face to cover more of his tears running down his cheeks and ending in his beard.

"Stop blaming yourself. What's done is done." Athos softly told him, reaching with his hand for Aramis' left leg and pressed it softly. "But if we start to tell it will endanger your life and not only yours, but the life of the Queen her unborn child and our brothers as well. I have seen the Cardinal's gaze upon you when the Queen announced that she is with child." Athos explained quietly.

"That's why you didn't want me to come with you to the palace." Aramis suddenly looked up surprised. "So you think …"

"Yes, Aramis, I believe it is your child … you can talk about a wonder, you can say her pregnancy was caused by those holy waters … but … I somehow doubt that. They have tried it more than once before. The King wants an heir. They are now married for several years. So ..."

"So you think I am the father … that's why you are trying to protect me." Aramis groaned out loud.

"Personally I think she has used you, Aramis. I think it was a combination of you being her hero once again and …"

"And her wish to finally become pregnant …" Aramis whispered. "Athos, you are wrong." Aramis shook his head. "I don't think she was using me. We needed each other that night and I feel … I … I really have feelings for her."

Aramis now looked at Athos again. His voice more firm knowing very well when he was loved by a woman.

"Then for God's sake stop having those feelings." Athos groaned and Aramis looked anxiously at him. He could see his friend's face, which told him that his friend was in pain.

Athos tried to ignore the intense pain in his thigh, wandering down his leg and made it cramp. He breathed in deep several times and closed his eyes for a short moment.

 _This damn pain. I wish it would go away … it hurts … I don't want t be that ill. I want to be better. Best I don't worry Aramis._

"Are you alright?"

"Well, I could be better … but that's not the point. When I was lying there, hoping and knowing that you would come and find me … all I wanted was to give you the chance to finally have that talk."

"Maybe she doesn't know either." Aramis answered.

"Believe me she knows." Athos stated firmly searching his friend's eyes while hearing his stomach grumbling.

Aramis stood up and busied himself with the soup Serge had prepared for Athos, while the swordsman closed his eyes again when a new wave of pain his his left leg. Only through pure willpower he could oppress a loud groan. In this moment Aramis turned to his friend around with a bowl in his hand.

"You really need to eat. Come I help you." Aramis put some more pillows to Athos' back, then he held the bowl for his brother, while Athos ate some spoonsful.

The still weak man felt the salty broth in his mouth and he suddenly felt really hungry. For a short moment he feared that he would throw up again, but his sick feeling passed and Aramis encouraged him to eat more. After he had finished half of the bowl he put the spoon down and indicated to Aramis that it was enough for now. Aramis agreed but gave him a piece of fresh bread instead on which Athos started to chew slowly.

"Where are the others?" Athos suddenly asked while he was sinking deeper in the pillows.

Aramis who had turned his back again to his friend in order to put the bowl away answered slowly:

"Tréville and d'Artagnan wanted to go back to _Château de Fontainebleau_ to find out about the content of the letter and Porthos took some men to go after them, he fears that they are in danger."

"You are not telling me that they … No, d'Artagnan … he … you must … this is ..."

Athos gasped, while feeling that his head had started to throbb again. He squeezed his eyes shut to get rid of the pain in his head and his leg. Blinking several times, but becoming more and more confused, he tried to formulate a whole sentence, when an unknown fear gripped him. He wasn't sure why, but suddenly he was afraid that something had happened to his little brother. He wanted to tell Aramis, but all his tired mind could do was to think incoherent thoughts and so he stayed silent.

 _Am I becoming insane? What's wrong with me? Why can't I speak clearly … arghhh ..._

Athos suddenly felt an itching pain in his chest and leg. The piece of bread he was still holding in his hand, dropped onto the blanket when his fingers started to tremble slightly. The loud groan that escaped his mouth, startled the medic and he hurried back next to Athos, who now looked paler and had closed his eyes again. Sweat was glistening on his forehead and he moaned several times, while gasping for air.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

 ** _A special thank you goes out to my lovely beta Beth xx All remaining mistakes are mine not hers !_**


	26. Chapter 26

**_Hey there, I am back with the next chapter._**

 ** _Thank you for reading and leaving a comment. Xx Kira_**

 ** _Debbie_**

 ** _Oh what happened to my d'Art? And Milady and Serge was quite an interesting meeting listening to both their own thoughts as well. And yet more talk of Aramis and the queen between the two brothers. I have always believed the close tie some people have with those they love. Especially ones that are twins. They could be miles apart or simply across the street, yet they know when that person's in danger or hurt, etc._** ** _I feel it's the same with Athos and d'Art._**

 ** _Debbie, thank you for your lovely review. What happened to d'Artagnan … well see for yourself in this chapter._**

 ** _I think that Athos feels that d'Artagnan is in danger and the other way round and that upsets the both of them._**

* * *

 **Chapter 26**

Tréville heard the hooves of a horse cantering away. Someone had been next to d'Artagnan only one minute ago.

 _Good grief, this must have been Juan. Don Fernando is already too far away. Has he hurt d'Artagnan? Has he shot at him with an arrow?_

With quick steps he approached his fallen soldier and knelt down next to him.

"D'Artagnan, are you alright? What has happened?"

Tréville asked quietly, while turning his young soldier on his back. D'Artagnan's eyes were closed. All Tréville could see in the dim forest light was that his face was covered with soil and dirt from the forest floor. He had a bloody gash on his right cheek. Frantically Tréville checked d'Artagnan's pulse which was much too fast. Another moan escaped the young man's lips, but he didn't open his eyes.

Gently Tréville removed some wet leaves that were plastered on d'Artagnan's left cheek and forehead, then he stroked through d'Artagnan's hair, searching for a possible head wound, but couldn't find one.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. When d'Artagnan moaned again, he softly patted the young man's cheek. D'Artagnan reacted on the contact and sluggishly opened his brown eyes, which blinked several times confused, before he closed them again.

"That's it open your eyes. Come on d'Artagnan. Don't go back to sleep. I need you ..."

Tréville encouraged his soldier and paused, when d'Artagnan opened his eyes again, this time only half. When the young man realised who was kneeling over him, he opened them wider. He wanted to get up, but Tréville held him down, not sure, where the young man had been injured.

"Easy, my son, I need to check you for wounds first." He softly said, while smiling with his blue eyes at d'Artagnan.

"Captain, you need to …" D'Artagnan gasped for air.

"Easy, d'Artagnan. What has happened? Where are you hurt?"

The Captain of the Musketeers had checked d'Artagnan several seconds before for any sign of an arrow or a bloody wound from a pistol, but he couldn't find anything.

"Don … you need to follow …" D'Artagnan tried to protest.

"All in good time. What has happened?"

"An owl …"

"An owl?"

Tréville wasn't sure if d'Artagnan was suffering from a head injury.

 _Why is he talking about an owl? What has happened to him? I can see no shot-wound and no arrow?_

"Yes, I climbed a tree … to have a better look … Don … Fernando … you have to go … after him. What is … when he tries to … attack … Athos ... again?" D'Artagnan answered, while still gasping for oxygen.

"Don't worry about that now, d'Artagnan." Tréville stared at his soldiers bloody hands. "What has happened here? That must hurt …"

"What …?" D'Artagnan raised his head to have a better look. He spotted his bloody hands: "Oh … I must have hurt them while trying to find a grip on some branches."

He murmured, while laying his head back again. He felt slightly dizzy and closed his eyes again.

"I will fetch my medical kit and then I will wrap them. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Tréville softly asked, while pressing the Gascon's arm.

"No … go after him … I will manage on my own … I will go back to the château and wait there." D'Artagnan contradicted.

"I will not leave you alone in this condition. You are injured, d'Artagnan."

"It's nothing … I only hit my head … I am fine."

 _Great he has learned that from his mentor as well?_

"You are not fine, but you will be fine again. Where does it hurt you the most? Your head?" Tréville asked wondering if the young man had a concussion.

"Captain, Athos … you have to … he's in danger … go … please. It's my fault. I should have been more careful."

"Would you stop that. Climbing a tree was a good idea. I probably would have done the same. You could not know that there was an angry owl sitting up above."

Tréville sighed inwardly. He already imagined how Aramis and Porthos would tease the young Gascon with that, if they were back at the garrison … if …"

"You need to go … please. Athos is … not safe." D'Artagnan tried to protest again.

"D'Artagnan you are injured. I won't leave you alone. This is why Athos was in trouble the first time. Imagine if Athos finds out about it, he would kill me."

"He wouldn't ... do ... that." D'Artagnan answered weakly.

"He would worry about you … and in his state … that's not a good idea. So I will stay. Besides he will not speak to me for weeks ..." He sighed knowing how stubborn his Lieutenant could be.

"But …" D'Artagnan tried to protest.

"D'Artagnan, Athos is safe. Aramis and Porthos are with him. They will protect him. Or do you think that they will leave him alone right now." Tréville searched the dark eyes of his young soldier and waited until they locked their eyes. Then he continued. "They will sit over him like two fat mother hens and not let him out of their sight. And Athos will roll his eyes, stare at them angrily and tell them to leave him alone."

He chuckled softly at that thought and for a second a shy smile appeared on the face of the young Gascon which was wiped away by another pain that gripped his body.

"So where are you hurt? And don't lie to me."

"My right foot. Maybe it's broken. I don't know …" D'Artagnan gasped.

"And what's about your head? Do you feel dizzy, sick?"

"Not sick, only a little dizzy, when I move my head too fast." D'Artagnan quietly admitted.

 _Good. That doesn't sound like a concussion to me. More like he's shocked from the fall from the tree._

"Do you feel any other pain?"

"Besides my hands. No … I'm only a little tired." D'Artagnan answered sluggishly.

"Wait here, I will be back in a minute." Tréville ordered.

 _Where could I go? I am not sure if I can stand on my own. My goodness I am so stupid._

Exhausted d'Artagnan closed his eyes again. He opened them several minutes later when he heard Tréville next to him, kneeling down again and removing his boot from his right foot. When Tréville started to touch the swollen ankle another pain went through d'Artagnan's whole body. The young man screamed out loud, then he could only see stars in front of his eyes. The dizziness had returned and he couldn't fight against everything going black. He gasped for air, then his head lolled to the side and he passed out.

"D'Artagnan?" Tréville called him softly, but no reaction from the young man.

 _Damn he is unconscious. I better check his ankle while he is out, then I will wrap his hands. I really hope that his foot or leg is not broken and I need to check for broken ribs as well ..._

Tréville gently stroked over the young man's hair then he hitched up his shirtsleeves and started to examine d'Artagnan's right foot.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _At the garrison_**

"Athos? Where does it hurt you?" Aramis frantically asked.

Athos couldn't answer his friend, he wanted to tell him, to say something, but a shiver ran down his spine and left him breathless for a short moment. He felt his throbbing head, the thundering heart and the pain in his leg became stronger.

 _No, please not again._

Athos feared that his body would be gripped by another seizure. He had vague memories of the one last night.

Aramis who noticed that Athos' breathing had changed into uneven gasps bent carefully over his suffering friend and softly stroked his arms.

"Athos?" He asked in a low voice, while all Athos could do was to moan loudly while struggling frantically for air.

"Not … again … please." The wounded soldier gasped.

"Calm." Aramis ordered.

"I … can't." Athos slurred while opening his mouth wide and breathing in deeper and deeper more oxygen.

 _Everything hurts, Aramis. Can't you see that. I … I don't know what's wrong with me. One moment I am better and the next moment I feel like I'm dying. My heart, why does my chest hurts so much? I wish the throbbing feeling would go away again. Wait the doctor told me to cough._

Athos coughed and at least the pain in his chest vanished, but the other pain in his leg even intensified. With pleading eyes he searched for Aramis help, but soon his eyes started to move fast from one corner to the other. Athos realised that he was losing control over his body once again. In the distance he heard Aramis' comforting voice.

"Yes, you can." Aramis said now in a firm voice. "Breathe with me. Come on. In and out, in and out …"

Athos only groaned louder as the pain in his leg started to intensify and his confused mind couldn't follow Aramis' instructions.

"Is … it … bleeding … again?" He asked with now fear in his voice.

"What?" Aramis asked confused.

"My leg … it hurts … maybe a stitch broke ... is it still … infected?" Athos gasped again, while feeling his heart thundering in his chest again. "... mis … it hurts …" He slurred.

"Athos?"

Aramis could feel more and more tremors running through his friend's body. He quickly removed the pillows from Athos' back and helped him to lie down in a more comfortable position. Athos felt his brother's hands on him, putting him flat on the mattress. Anxiously he grabbed with his left hand for Aramis' right wrist.

"Help me … what's wrong … with me …?" He slurred still struggling for air.

Aramis softly pressed his friend's hand before putting it back on the mattress. He remembered how Porthos had managed several hours ago to calm their agitated friend and after briefly hesitating, he went on the other side of the bed, laid himself down, next to Athos, who now had curled up again in a foetal position and pressed his chest on Athos' back.

"Calm, breathe with me, follow my instructions. Do you hear me?"

Aramis tried it again, not letting go of his friend, stroking again over his arm and then his head, trying to calm his agitated and frightened patient. Athos' body started to shake more and more. Aramis could hear his friend's irregular breathing, his sobbing and moaning. Over and over again he whispered in his ear that he should breathe with him, but Athos wasn't able to hear him. Frightened that his brother was now dealing with so much pain and losing again the control of his still weak body, Aramis finally decided to slap his friend's cheek. He didn't want to hurt him, but he needed to reach his stubborn friend, so that he would start following his instructions and calm his breathing again.

Aramis readied himself and then he slapped with his right hand a little stronger than he intended on Athos' cheek. It seemed to help. Slowly Athos opened his eyes and stopped moaning. Frantically his eyes searched for Aramis, who was still behind him.

"Aramis?" He asked confused.

"I'm here, right behind you. You drifted off, sorry for the slap. Breathe with me, can you do this." Aramis softly whispered in his ear and Athos calmed while feeling the warm breath on his cheek.

"Hmm …"

Athos murmured and Aramis could feel Athos' breathing changing, while laying his own palm on Athos' chest, to calm his friend even more. He could feel the fast heartbeat under his palm and he cursed himself.

Athos finally listened to Aramis and started to breathe more evenly again. After several minutes the medic recognised that his patient had stopped trembling, his heartbeat had slowed down again and his breathing evened out. He gave his brother more space by lifting his hand away from his chest, retreating from the bed and standing up, while Athos rolled exhaustedly on his back. The sick man opened his eyes, blinking several times and then stared confused at the ceiling his green eyes and mouth half open.

Aramis bent over his face and softly cupped his friend's cheek with his hand.

"Are you with me, Athos?" He softly asked.

"Hmm …" Athos answered, still groggy and slightly confused. "What …?"

"I don't know." Aramis softly said, while checking with his right hand first Athos' pulse which had slowed down again and then his forehead for any signs of a new fever. He felt the sweaty skin, but no high fever. He reached for a cloth and wiped his friend's face softly. "Can you tell me where it hurts you the most?"

"My leg." Athos whispered. "The severe pain is back. Do you think it is infected?" Athos barely audible asked.

 **XXXXX**

Tréville carefully checked d'Artagnan's right foot. He could see that the ankle was swollen and had turned red. He felt the hot skin on his fingers. As he gently moved the foot back and forward, then to the right and left, the young man moaned, but stayed unconscious.

 _Maybe it's better this way …_ Tréville sighed.

He had treated enough soldiers with broken bones so that he could say that d'Artagnan's ankle and foot were not broken but sprained.

 _Thank God, a broken foot or ankle can ruin a soldier's career. Nevertheless the ankle will hurt him for a while._

Tréville reached for some fresh white cloths he had found in his saddleback and started to wrap the injured foot. Then he checked on d'Artagnan's other foot, but neither the leg nor the foot were injured. D'Artagnan had been very lucky. He paused from putting the boots on again and checked now d'Artagnan's upper body for broken ribs, but he couldn't find any. The soft forest floor had softened the impact.

 _He's been very lucky and next time he climbs a tree he will look for owls first. Thank God I don't need to tell Athos that his young protegé has been severely hurt while accompanying me. I wonder how he is by now?_

Tréville reached for his water bottle and a smaller bottle with some wine and started to clean with a fresh cloth d'Artagnan's bloody hands. His hands would hurt his soldier for the next days and he wasn't sure if he could hold and fight with a sword right now, but he would be able to draw a pistol. When he had finished wrapping the second hand, d'Artagnan started to become more coherent again. Some more moans escaped his lips and finally he opened his eyes and blinked confused at the dark ceiling above him. The high trees did not let much sunlight through their branches.

"Oh …" He exclaimed as he realised that Tréville was caring for his wounds.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I have fallen from a tree." D'Artagnan whispered quietly. "Sorry … I … my foot ..."

He anxiously asked, lifting his throbbing head and peering now with his eyes down at his naked left foot and his bandaged right foot.

"Stop that. You were very lucky." Tréville smiled at him. "You have sprained your right ankle, but it will heal again. You have no broken bones. "I try to help you back into your boots. Can you stand?" Tréville asked d'Artagnan.

"I am not sure, perhaps with your help." He answered slightly embarrassed.

"Come, we'll try."

Tréville stood up and reached with both of his hands down to d'Artagnan, who gave him now both of his hands. With a swift move Tréville pulled his soldier back into a vertical position.

D'Artagnan gasped out loud when his right foot touched the ground and for one moment he faltered dangerously. He was certain if Tréville's strong arms had not hold and supported his back he would have crashed down on the forest ground again.

"Easy, don't try to put weight on your right foot." Tréville instructed him. D'Artagnan nodded slowly. "Do you feel dizzy?"

"No. Only shaken up and my foot hurts."

"Good." Tréville mumbled. The Captain of the Musketeers looked around, then he spotted a big stone about ten feet away from them. "Come. I'll help you to walk over there. Lean on me." When d'Artagnan hesitated for a short moment the Captain added in a gruff tone: "That's an order!"

Again d'Artagnan nodded and gratefully leaned his weight on Tréville's shoulder. Then they slowly walked over to the stone and Tréville helped him to sit down.

"Wait, I will bring your socks and boots." The older man went back to the place where d'Artagnan had lain for the past minutes, picked up his boots and returned. D'Artagnan followed his Captain with his brown eyes. He still felt so embarrassed, but he had no other chance to accept the help of his commanding officer.

Tréville knelt down in front of him, and helped him first with the sock and boot for his left foot, then he turned to the right.

"I am not sure, if it will fit, your ankle is really swollen, but I think it will stabilise your whole foot, when you put it on again." Tréville hesitated. "Maybe … yes … I will be back in a minute." The Captain stood up, fetched another cloth and left d'Artagnan behind.

"Captain, where are you going?" The young Gascon asked irritatedly.

Tréville didn't answer him. He moreover was busy scanning the area to remember where they had come from. On their way to the château they had crossed a small stream.

 _It must be near here. Cold water on this cloth, then wrapping it tightly around d'Artagnan's foot should help to cool down the swelling for a while. Of course it would be better to let him sit at the side of the stream and rest his foot in the cold water. But we don't have that time … Ah, there it is._

Captain Tréville had found what he was looking for. He bent down over the edge of the small stream. Then he put the cloth in the cool sparkling fresh water and waited until it was soaked. As soon as the cloth was wet enough he stood up and quickly returned to the waiting man.

"Sorry for the delay. I think, I will put this wet cloth around your ankle. It should help to reduce the swelling." He explained to the astonished Gascon. Tréville knelt down again, removed d'Artagnan's sock and wrapped the wet cloth around d'Artagnan's swollen ankle. The young man hissed at the first touch, but the cold water felt good on his skin.

"Thank you. I think it helps." He mumbled.

Tréville looked up to him:

"Alright, now I will try to pull on your boot. Are you ready?"

D'Artagnan did not dare to say a word, but simply nodded again. His foot was still pulsing and hurting him from the moment when he had stepped on it several minutes ago, even with the wet cloth around it. So he braced himself and endured more pain, while the Captain tried to put on his boot again. The sock had been no problem, but the boot caused them both troubles.

"Scream when you have to. It must hurt like hell. I once sprained my ankle as a young soldier too, when I had to fight with my sword. I was lucky that another comrade saved my life. If I recall correctly it was your father, who saved my life and helped me afterwards." Tréville smiled at the young Gascon.*

"You knew my father?" D'Artagnan asked confused and in this moment Tréville used all his force to put on the boot. It moved over d'Artagnan's swollen ankle and the young man screamed out loud.

"He never told you?" Tréville looked astonished up. "He fought with me together for several years as a soldier, but then he decided to return to Gascony. Said a beautiful woman was waiting for him. I guess this was your mother. Love is always stronger than war." He smiled while gently tapping his soldier's shoulder. "All done." He grinned.

"You have an interesting way to distract others." D'Artagnan answered shyly. "Not sure if he could ask more questions about Tréville and his father."

"He has written me several letters during the years, telling me that he was a farmer and proud father of a boy. He always wondered in his letters if he should tell you about his life as a soldier. At least he gave you a sword and practised with you from time to time. He would be proud of you d'Artagnan. I'm so sorry for your loss. I miss Alexandre too."

Tréville searched d'Artagnan's eyes and he could see that the young man was fighting with his tears.

"Sorry, I didn't want you to remind …"

"It's alright Captain." D'Artagnan wiped angrily the tears out of his eyes with his hands. "When we are back at the garrison and we are certain that Athos is safe, can I come to you and ask you more about your adventures." D'Artagnan asked with self-confidence in his voice.

"Of course …" Tréville smiled at him encouragingly. "We will find a good moment. But you are right, we have to return …" He looked at the young man. "Are you sure that you can ride? I can take you over to the château and send a wagon as soon as possible."

"No!" D'Artagnan shook his head. "I can ride. We have already lost too much time. I fear that they will try another assault on Athos' life." D'Artagnan said ruefully with concern in his voice.

"Maybe they have only left to erase all traces that they have to do anything with the first attack on Athos' life, but I agree with you the sooner I know that Athos is well and safe, the better I will feel. I will help you mounting."

Tréville helped his young solider up, encouraged him again to lean on him and then they made it slowly back to their horses. On their way back d'Artagnan felt with his left hand around his belt noticing that his main gauche was missing. He paused turning his head to the direction, where he had left his sword and pistol.

 _Have I left the main gauche with my other weapons? I need to fetch them first. Great … now I have to tell Tréville that I climbed the tree without my weapons._

"What is it?" Tréville asked noticing that d'Artagnan was looking for something.

"I need to fetch my weapons first." D'Artagnan quietly mumbled. "I left them under the tree, before I climbed it, together with my gloves. But …"

"But what?" Tréville asked.

"Not my main gauche. I took it with me and now it's gone. Maybe I have lost it while falling down from the tree." D'Artagnan said.

"Wait here, I will have a look and bring the other weapons back."

 _No, I won't start a conversation with him now about leaving his weapons behind._

Tréville reached the tree which d'Artagnan had climbed minutes ago. Next to the trunk he found his gloves, the sword and his pistol, but no main gauche. He walked up and down and around the tree, the light was still dim, but he was certain that he would have seen it.

 _Wait d'Artagnan says that he kept his main gauche with him. When I found him he was lying on his chest. Our daggers are attached to the back. Good grief … could it be … that this Juan stole this main gauche. It's the only explanation … I think it was a special gift from Athos to the boy after he had gained his commission._

Tréville angrily shook his head. He couldn't find the dagger. He collected the other weapons and gloves, brought them over to d'Artagnan and helped to attach them to his belt. The gloves he put in his saddleback.

"My main gauche?" D'Artagnan asked.

"I looked under the tree and around the spot where you were lying, but nothing, I am sorry d'Artagnan."

"It must be somewhere." The young man tried to protest.

 _How shall I explain to Athos that I have lost the main gauche he has gifted to me? I need to search. It can't …_

"D'Artagnan, I am afraid, we have to go."

Tréville could see how upset and sad the young man was with himself and the whole situation.

"I know … Athos … he's in danger. I can sense it."

D'Artagnan whispered. Hanging his head he accepted his Captain's help back to his horse.

 _I can't tell him that Juan was near him when he was unconscious, can I? We need to hurry. I have a bad feeling, a very bad one …_ Tréville thought while helping d'Artagnan back to his horse.

Several minutes later d'Artagnan was sitting back on Fidget, while Tréville mounted his horse. The Captain knew that they wouldn't be able to ride as fast as he wished, but it was better than leaving his injured soldier behind.

 _Aramis, Porthos, I count on you that you protect Athos._

He inwardly prayed, then he gave the sign to return, riding behind d'Artagnan to make sure that the young man was really well enough to ride on his own horse.

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 **Note:**

* In Duma's novel D'Artagnan's father and Tréville knew each other.

* * *

 _ **A special thanks goes out to Beth for proofing my text xx**_


	27. Chapter 27

**_Hey,_**

 ** _I am back with the next chapter._**

 ** _Many thanks to my beta Beth, who is such a great help !_**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading and reviewing:_**

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _Hard heads goes with being a Musketeer. Still my poor Gascon is injured but i love how Treville is being with the lad. The captain's thoughts about being thankful d'Art only has a sprain reminded me that I guess with medical techniques back then a broken foot or ankle could mean a soldier's career. And yes I too whenever it fits in my stories have Treville and Alexandre d'Artagnan as having known and been friends with one another having served in the war and lived in the same area. But in the novels d'Art knew this. I love how we can change things to suit our stories though._**

 ** _Thank you for your long and lovely review. Indeed it was an interesting part to write the D'Artagnan/Tréville scene and I considered that if d'Artagnan had broken his leg it would have been much more complicated. Nevertheless the sprained ankle will hurt him a lot._**

 ** _The story about D'Artagnan's father was different in the series, but I always assume that they knew each other._**

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _Pleased D'Artagnan only has a sprained ankle but still worried about Athos._** ** _Excellent chapter x_**

 ** _Thank you for your review and your kind words._**

 ** _They are now all worried. Hmm is d'Artagnan right?_**

 ** _Find out in the next chapter._**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

 ** _Garrison, infirmary_**

"I will have a look now. Stay like this."

Aramis ordered, then he removed the blanket to look at Athos' left thigh and started to remove the bandage accompanied now by soft whimpers from his friend. The medic carefully inspected the stitched skin, where they had removed the arrow several hours ago. He gently poked with his fingers on the wound to see if a stitch was pulled.

"All stitches are still intact. There is no blood and the wound looks sore, but there are no signs of infection." He softly told Athos, who had anxiously held his breath.

"Thank God." He heard his friend mumbling.

Aramis fetched some honey salve, which he put anew on the injured spot, then he renewed the bandage. Athos had closed his eyes again, but he wasn't asleep.

"What has happened?" Athos mumbled after Aramis had fastened the ends of the bandage with a strong knot. "Was it another seizure?"

"No. Don't worry. Your body is simply exhausted. Instead of letting you rest I stressed you with talking and your body reacted to it," Aramis softly explained.

He smiled at Athos but was taken slightly back, when he noticed that tears were running down over his friend's face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He moved to his side and softly stroked the wetness on his friend's cheeks with his thumbs away.

Athos opened his eyes groggily.

"Tréville … he has left because I …" Athos paused to calm himself "... because I was stupid enough … to ask over and over again for … a letter."

"He left because someone tried to kill you." Aramis gently answered. "Is it that what is worrying you?" He quietly asked.

"I've caused so much trouble through …"

"Would you stop with this nonsense, please." Aramis chided his friend softly. "You are in pain, you are exhausted, you need rest. You were severely wounded, come I will give you some of the pain draught the doctor has left for you. You will be better, when you have rested more." Aramis continued.

Athos observed his friend with his green eyes, while the medic busied himself to prepare another pain potion.

"We need to stop that." Athos barely audible mumbled.

"What?" Aramis looked at him confused.

"We need to stop what we have done over the past weeks. You know, they are not stupid."

"What are you talking about?"

Aramis returned to Athos side with the cup in his hand, ready to press it to his friend's lips, but Athos stopped his movement with his hand.

"We need to talk about that first." He pleaded his brother.

"And the pain in your leg?"

"It has subsided again." Athos lied.

"Why don't I believe you?" Aramis raised his eyebrows and sat down on the chair, still holding the cup in his hand. "Alright, what do you want to talk about?"

"I think if we continue like that Porthos and d'Artagnan will find out. They are already suspicious. They are sensing that something is going on between us and they won't stop asking questions until …"

"I know." Aramis sighed. "They have already asked me."

"What have you told them?" Athos anxiously asked.

"That I was angry about you, because you risked your life in the Convent going after Gallagher on your own."

"Well, I had my sword. We had to protect the Queen. It was only …"

Athos tired mind and the pulsing pain in his leg made him confused again and he couldn't think straight. Aramis sighed inwardly.

"Athos!" Aramis stopped him with a much too loud voice and the latter squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his still throbbing head. "Sorry for that." Aramis mumbled softly and then he added quietly:

"Yes. I know why you did what you did and I am not angry with you. We had our orders but that's what I told Porthos."

"Ohhh … he'll never believe you …" Athos whispered.

Aramis snorted.

"No, he doesn't. I tried, but …"

"We need another story … we need something which they can believe and most important we need to stop arguing." Athos felt his eyes drooping and exhausted he closed them.

He heard Aramis standing up, he felt a cold cup being pressed at his lips and then Aramis' hand at the back of his head, helping to raise it a little, so that he could drink more easily.

"I promise you I will think about it. We'll talk later. Drink. Your body needs rest."

Athos followed his friend's order. He endured the bitter taste in his mouth and swallowed it down knowing that it would help him to ease the pain. When he had finished, he rolled his head onto the left side and forced himself to open his eyes again. The sleep was now pulling more and more on his mind.

"Tréville will kill me … if he finds out about the letter …" He whispered.

Aramis put the cup away again, then he softly stroked some strains out of Athos' forehead and rested his hand in his thick hair.

"Tréville won't kill you … he loves you too much and fears for your life. He has not left because of a stupid letter, but because he needs answers who did this to you. Understood."

"But … what shall I tell him …"

"That you were confused. He will believe you. You were confused. So it's not a lie."

Aramis softly explained. Hoping that his friend would finally fall asleep. But Athos' mind was still too busy.

"And what if something happens to d'Artagnan while they are going back there?"

"Do you know the content of the letter? I mean could this letter have contained an important message that others will try to kill for it only to get hold of it?"

"No." Athos looked confused. "I thought it was only an answer to the letter the Queen had written to her friend. Nothing important. The madame even told me that I could take my time in delivering it."

"Did she tell you about the content?"

"No, but I didn't ask, my God, do you think the letter could endanger d'Artagnan and the Captain?"

"Easy, Athos. I doubt that. I think it is as you just told me. A simple answer from one woman to another woman. Probably about … well … that she is telling her that she is pregnant and this madame answered her with congratulating. I mean if she told you to take your time delivering it, it doesn't sound that it was very important."

"But you can't say for certain, so d'Artagnan might be in danger, because of me." Athos tried to sit up, but Aramis pressed him down again."

"Calm Athos! Try to sleep! D'Artagnan is not a boy anymore, but a Musketeer, besides Tréville is with him and Porthos has gathered some men to ride towards their direction."

"Oh, so that's ... where Porthos is ... now."

Athos slurred, getting more and more tired. Not really aware anymore of what they were talking about. The pain draught did it's magic and pulled Athos further away from being conscious and thinking clearly.

"It's … good … that … tos … went after … them …" Athos slurred, then he closed his eyes again and fell in another deep sleep.

 _Rest my friend … You've asked me what was wrong with you and I lied to you. I caused you to have a panic attack. I'm sorry Athos. I should have known that telling you that Tréville and d'Artagnan left wouldn't bode you well. Now I need to figure out a good story … I am glad that we could finally talk, but I think we need to talk even more._

Aramis stood up from his chair, stretched himself and walked up and down in the room.

 _What a mess … the letter could still be a dangerous item and d'Artagnan and Tréville are maybe in danger now too. Why otherwise would they send a Musketeer if the message wasn't that important? I tried to calm you with my words Athos. Good grief what is the message in this letter? I am glad that Porthos didn't want to wait for you waking up again ..._

 _What do I do now? Probably I should simply wait next to you and send for Doctor Lemay, he should check you over again. I don't like you still being in so much pain …_

Aramis dropped down in the chair next to Athos' head and watched his now sleeping brother. The rising and falling of his chest calmed him. His thoughts drifted back to the talk he had had earlier with Athos.

 _If Athos fears that the Cardinal knows … or at least suspects something … I really can't go to the Queen and ask her. I need to keep my distance. He should have told me earlier. Now I understand why he stopped me in the past weeks from going to the palace on my own or changed palace guard with me._

Aramis nervously ran his hand through his thick brown hair and then bent down, resting his arms on his legs.

 _Oh, how much it hurts ... how much ... I will have to go against my instincts … but it's the only way to protect the woman and the unborn child I dearly love. Athos is right … one mistake and it could kill them ..._

 _Oh … I wish … I hadn't been so stupid … but we needed each other that night and I know it even if Athos has doubts. I can feel it in the bottom of my heart. Anne loves me. She loves me as much as I love her. Why … why is my life always so complicated?_

 **XXXXX**

In the meantime d'Artagnan and Tréville were on their way back to the garrison. Both men felt the urge to hurry. From time to time the Captain looked at his young soldier and he could see the pained expression on d'Artagnan's face. But the young man only gritted his teeth, didn't complain, concentrated on the road and lowered his gaze.

"We can't move on at such a fast gallop." Tréville shouted over to d'Artagnan.

"But we have to. Athos is in danger." D'Artagnan shouted back, his eyes still fixed on the bumpy ground.

Tréville brought his horse next to d'Artagnan's and forced the young man to slow down while reaching for his reins.

"I know you are worried, d'Artagnan, but we won't be able to help Athos if we continue like this. If we break our necks we can't to do anything. Look at the road in front of us. It is bumpy and too dangerous to continue in this fast galopp."

"It's just that I have a very bad feeling. I can't help but sense that they will try a second attack." D'Artagnan explained, looking now at his Captain."

"Before we left I ordered extra guards to secure the garrison. Porthos and Aramis are with Athos. He will be alright." Tréville tried to calm his young soldier trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"And if not …" D'Artagnan tried to protest, but Tréville interrupted him.

"How is your ankle?"

"It's much better." D'Artagnan lied and tried to smile at his Captain.

"It must hurt like hell." Tréville answered, ignoring the lie. "With a slower pace our horses can rest and your foot can recover a little." Tréville smiled back.

They were about to continue, when d'Artagnan gave his Captain a sign, by rising his hand in the air.

"Wait. I can hear the noise of horses, hooves coming fast in our direction. Riders." D'Artagnan told his Captain.

Tréville looked in front of them. The road they were on right now was hilly. In the distance he could see several man on horses, wearing blue capes.

"Musketeer capes." Tréville mumbled more to himself.

"That's Porthos." D'Artagnan shouted. "Something must have happened otherwise they would not ride towards us!" He added, then he gave his horse the order to move on as fast as it could ignoring the pain in his right foot.

Porthos and the other men spotted their Captain and d'Artagnan at the same time.

 _Thank God they seem to be unharmed._ Porthos thought while waiting for them to come nearer, when they were near enough to be heard d'Artagnan shouted:

"What's wrong Porthos?"

"We were worried about you." Porthos told him, when the Gascon had finally reached them. The pained expression on his brother's face didn't go unnoticed by Porthos.

"We couldn't ask Athos about the content of the letter and we feared that you might be in some kind of trouble." He explained.

Even if d'Artagnan tried to hide it, Porthos could see that he was in pain and he wondered when and where he had been injured. Before he could ask him what had happened, Tréville arrived next to them. His facial expression grim.

"How's Athos?" He asked without further greetings, wondering why Porthos had brought five more men to come and meet them. "Could he tell you anything about the message of the letter?"

"When I left him he was better, but he had a tough night. Aramis is with him now and Doctor Lemay wanted to check on him again. I am afraid we couldn't ask him about the letter yet. We had to concentrate on saving his life first." Porthos informed his Captain leaving out the details about the nightmare Athos, Aramis and he had behind them.

"That bad?"

Tréville sighed, knowing that the eyes of the streetfighter were telling him more than Porthos' words. Tréville could see in Porthos' dark brown eyes which were filled with exhaustion, sadness and some frightened expression and he wondered what had caused it.

Porthos tried to get rid of the memories of the last night and early morning and turned around to d'Artagnan asking:

"What has happened to you?"

"A high tree and an owl."

The young Gascon tried to express these words as a joke, but his voice betrayed him, as his hurting ankle throbbed and he gritted his teeth again to oppress a loud scream.

"D'Artagnan has a sprained ankle." Tréville quietly explained.

After that the Captain informed Porthos and the other men what they had witnessed at the _Château de Fontainebleau_ and that Don Fernando and Juan had left the château in a hurry.

"Do you think they have anything to do with the attack on Athos' life?" Porthos asked aloud.

"I have a bad feeling about those men and the woman was lying too. I can't help, I have no evidence …" Tréville wanted to continue but was interrupted by the young Gascon.

"They will try another assault." D'Artagnan urged. "We need to hurry."

Under other circumstances Tréville would have angrily shouted at his young soldier for interrupting him but he felt the same tension in the air as d'Artagnan. He had a bad feeling that both Spaniards had left in such a hurry and the fact that d'Artagnan's main gauche was missing didn't help to ease this feeling.

Porthos frowned:

"You won't be able to ride as fast as the rest of us d'Artagnan. Your ankle must hurt you."

"Go ahead, I will come as fast as I can." D'Artagnan answered determined to follow them, knowing that the ride back to the garrison was still long.

Tréville ordered Henri to stay with d'Artagnan and the rest to follow him back. After that was arranged Porthos goaded his stallion to ride as fast as it could. He shouted over to Tréville that he would be faster, because his horse was more rested and Tréville replied: "Go. I am right behind you. I think d'Artagnan will be alright."

 **XXXXX**

 ** _At the garrison_**

Athos woke with a start when he moved in his sleep. His injured leg burned like fire and he gasped out loud. Confused, he opened his eyes and blinked several times. He felt Aramis' hand gently pressing his shoulder and he turned his head towards his friend.

"Your thigh?" Aramis asked quietly looking into Athos' green shimmering eyes filled with moisture.

"Hmm …"

"I've sent for Doctor Lemay. He should arrive very soon. He will have a look again at the wound. Do you want another painkiller?" He asked Athos, who only shook his head groggily.

"No. I don't like the taste …"

"Then tea." Aramis smiled at him and pressed a warm cup into his hand. Drink."

Athos thought it was kind of progress that he was being allowed to hold the cup on his own. He slowly drank the herbal tea wondering what herbs Aramis had put in it. The taste was new to him.

"Is Porthos back?"

Athos asked after he had drunk the whole content of the cup and Aramis took it away from him again.

"No, no yet. But don't worry. He left with five other Musketeers and the road to _Château de Fontainebleau_ is long."

"I know that Aramis." Athos answered exhausted.

"You should try to sleep a little more."

"I can't right now." Athos protested. "I will wait for the doctor."

"I have no idea when he will arrive. I think about noon or perhaps later, would you like something to eat?"

"I am not hungry." Athos told him.

Aramis frowned. Not hungry wasn't a good sign.

"You need to eat something. Some more soup and bread."

"No soup." Athos protested. "Do you still have some bread here?"

"Yes, and cheese. Serge has brought a full plate for the both of us."

Aramis stood up and came back with the plate. Athos carefully chose a piece of bread and some cheese and started to chew on it.

"Better?" He asked when he noticed Aramis' eyes watching him with a concerned look.

"Not sure …" Aramis answered and Athos furrowed his brow.

"What?" He asked still eating on the cheese.

"While you were sleeping I had time to think about everything. You are right. We need a story and a good one. I fear we won't have time to discuss this later, so we should do it now. Do you have any suggestions?" Aramis answered his voice somehow absent.

"You mean what we are going to tell Porthos and d'Artagnan?" Athos asked thinking.

"We could say that we were interested in the same woman …" Aramis started.

Athos looked irritatedly at his friend.

"Are you out of your mind?"

He asked slightly confused, not sure if he should smile about it or if Aramis was really considering that the story was a good one.

"Yes, I mean it. Look we have been several times together to the Wren without Porthos and d'Artagnan. Let's say an attractive woman approached us one evening wanting something from you, but I fell immediately in love with her. Let's see oh yes the red-haired Yvonne or no much better the one with those fascinating blue eyes and long blond hair, I think her name is, Florence. Yes, that could work … but maybe we leave the name out … too complicated, when they start asking ... So you were mad with me …"

Athos rolled his eyes, then a smile came to his lips and the grin stayed a little longer than usual, while he looked into Aramis' face.

"Very well, we should go for the truth."

"What?" Aramis looked confused at Athos. "You were the one who told me that it will only endanger us all, not only me …"

"Porthos and d'Artagnan will never believe us such a story. Not with my past … with Anne …"

Athos paused. Thinking of his wife still hurt him. Angrily he shook his head to get rid of the picture in his mind that appeared in front of his inner eyes: her beautiful green eyes, her long dark hair, hanging over her shoulder. His thigh was now pulsing stronger and another moan escaped his lips. For a moment he closed his eyes and tried to breath through the pain until it vanished again.

"I really should give you another pain potion." Aramis tried it again.

"No need to. I'll wait for the doctor. I told you." Athos answered under gritted teeth."

"So the story with us arguing because of this beautiful Florence is not a good story, even with the fact that we argue because of a woman … because of the Queen …" Aramis added.

"That's different, Aramis and you know it. I am not in love with our Queen and I've not slept with her. I would have never … ever … it's treason ..." He answered with a much too harsh voice.

"No, you are right, I am truly sorry that …"

"Stop it, will you, we do it again. Ouch my bloody thigh, when will this pain ever go away?" Athos gasped and Aramis gently put his hand on Athos' chest.

"Easy. The less you move the better. It was a stupid idea of mine to start with this conversation and topic right now. Rest. I am sure the doctor can give you another pain …"

"I don't want a pain killer. I want to know when the pain will go away and if I will be able to walk ever again." Athos answered his voice filled with frustration.

"Of course you will walk again." Aramis protested. "What makes you think that …"

"The last time I stood on my leg I collapsed on a hard floor."

"Give it time. Your wound has to heal first, but you will be able to walk again, Athos. I am sure."

"Easier said than done." Athos mumbled frustratedly. "Can you help me to get up then I can try to walk."

Athos tried to sit up on his bed, but Aramis pressed him down with his hands.

"That's not a very good idea right now. Believe me it will only hurt you more and your leg will still need time until you can put pressure on it. So stay put and rest. Or do you love my needle work so much?" Aramis said.

 _At least he is better. He would not start trying to get up, if he still felt as miserable as he did last night._

For a moment Aramis wished that Porthos would be with them, because now he had to deal with his stubborn patient on his own and Athos would try it again to stand up. He needed to distract him further.

"So what else can we tell them?" Aramis asked searching Athos' eyes. The latter looked tiredly at him.

"Perhaps a story nearer to the truth." Athos answered, while he still tried to fight Aramis' hands.

"Such as …?"

"That you have slept with a married woman and her husband found out about it. The man was out for revenge and this way we were both nearly killed."

Athos told him, having finally managed to remove Aramis' hands from his chest and was now sitting up on his bed. Aramis let him be for a while. Telling himself that he would intervene when Athos tried to move his legs over the corner of the bed. But Athos seemed to wait in this position.

 _Perhaps he still feels dizzy from his neck, or his thigh is hurting him now more and he understands that he needs to rest and wait. He is not stupid, simply stubborn …_

"They will want a name."

"We can't give them the name because she is married to a nobleman, who has powerful influence at the court. We convinced the husband, who tried to kill us, that he was wrong and he finally believed us."

"Alright, this story could really work … Adele was always afraid that the Cardinal would find out about our liaison, but I really loved her … it's strange that she left Paris, but maybe it was the best for the both of us."

"See … now we have a good story." Athos told his friend then he started a second time to try to get up, but Aramis was faster and pushed him down on his soft pillow and mattress.

"What don't you understand under the word _rest_?" Aramis angrily emphasised.

Athos didn't answer him, but simply gasped for more air feeling slightly dizzy and his leg felt like he had fallen into glass shards. The pulsing pain in his leg left him gasping for air and he cursed himself that he hadn't listened to Aramis.

"You know I told you …" Aramis mumbled, while gently stroking over his friend's arm to give him some comfort.

"I tried …"

Athos gasped, then he closed his eyes and decided that the idea of resting or sleeping wasn't such a bad one. Within a few minutes Aramis could hear that Athos' breathing had changed and he was grateful that his exhausted and still sick brother had fallen asleep again.

 _One problem solved … but many more to come … oh Athos I wish you would be better by now._

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	28. Chapter 28

**_Thank you for reading and for each review. This means a lot to me._**

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _Thank you so much for your lovely review, Debbie!_**

 ** _I think it goes both ways d'Artagnan worries about Athos and Athos over d'Artagnan. Reminds me of e2s1. Well, the letter, maybe there is a second one … you will find out about it in this chapter more. Yes the story arch between Athos and Aramis lying at Porthos and d'Artagnan. I kind of found this always weird. But I guess for the big revelation they needed to play along until episode 9. If I have to guess it is Athos forbidding Aramis to tell anybody, because he fears for the life of his friend & brother._**

 ** _I write in canon, so I can't do that, but it would be a very interesting one shot. xx Kira_**

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _Thank you so much for your review. You will find about Athos' leg in this chapter! xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 28**

 ** _Earlier at the palace_**

"What does it say?" King Louis now asked impatiently, irritated by the way Cardinal Richelieu's grey-blue eyes widened.

"It's from a Dona Ynes-Mancía she expresses her gratitude that your Majesty invited her to your garden party next week, but she won't be able to attend. She will travel soon with her uncle to Italy, to meet her fiancé. She thanks you that you allowed her to stay at _Château de Fontainebleau_ and greets you from the bottom of her heart." The Cardinal added, a little insecure about the message.

"Indeed, I wrote to her yesterday and invited her." Queen Anne looked towards her husband. "See, Louis there was nothing wrong about this message." Suppressing a small laugh of relief, because it was not appropriate for the Queen to laugh at Court.

"And why are there then blood spots on the outside of the paper? Why is a mysterious man or woman delivering that letter and not your valet?" Louis asked suspiciously.

Queen Anne suddenly went pale and walked closer towards the Cardinal staring at him with her blue eyes.

"I don't know, Louis. I asked the Cardinal to give it to one of our valets to deliver it to _Château de Fontainebleau_. Tell me Cardinal, who has delivered the letter? Have you sent my valet? Is he in any kind of danger?" Queen Anne, now slightly agitated, asked the Cardinal.

"Oh, I talked with Captain Tréville yesterday and asked him if one of his men could deliver it."

"You asked the Captain of the Musketeers to deliver a simple invitation?" Louis looked confused at the Cardinal. "How unusual? They have more important things to do." He stated now angrily.

"Have you heard back from Captain Tréville?"

The Queen asked. She swayed dangerously, feeling suddenly sick. Louis who noticed that his wife didn't feel well steadied her with a firm grip on her arm and slowly accompanied her back to her chair.

"Sit my darling, you don't look well. You should lie down."

"It's alright." Queen Anne shook her head. Then she looked up to the Cardinal.

"Cardinal?"

"I'm afraid not yet. He left the palace early yesterday and I haven't seen him today. Now, that you mention it, perhaps he has sent a message to me? I'll have to ask." The Cardinal bowed and already wanted to leave the room, but the King stopped him.

"Cardinal? What made you send a Musketeer to deliver this invitation?" He asked now angrily.

"Tréville told me that he was doing some extra training this week with his Musketeers, so I thought I could help him with this task. You know fast horse riding, extra sword fight …" He eluded to the question of the King.

"Do you know which Musketeer delivered the letter?" Queen Anne now asked feeling more and more uncomfortable. "I hope he wasn't wounded on his way back." Protectively she put a hand on her stomach, where she could feel her unborn child moving.

"I don't know. I only know that it was a task for only one man."

"So find out about it." Louis shouted aloud. "That Captain Tréville hasn't reported back today to the palace doesn't bode well. I know we have a meeting later today, but it's not like him, that he or his men don't report back. Something must have happened." King Louis insisted.

"With your permission I will send a man to ask?" Cardinal Richelieu said.

At this moment one of the Musketeers, his name was Gauthier, who had palace guard cleared his throat.

"If I may speak, your Majesty." He asked politely, bowing his head.

"Do you know anything?" Queen Anne looked at the Musketeer.

"It's Athos, I mean he was injured yesterday. It must be him. He didn't return from a mission he underwent on his own yesterday and Tréville gathered some men and found him severely wounded near the garrison. The Captain left for _Château de Fontainebleau_ yesterday evening with d'Artagnan to investigate the whole incident."

"Dear God." The Queen gasped.

"And you are telling us this now?" King Louis asked angrily.

"He thought that he would be back in time for your meeting later this afternoon."

"Athos?" Queen Anne mumbled shocked. Then she looked at the Musketeer. "How badly was he injured?"

"I'm afraid it was a severe wound, but the doctor hopes that he will recover. He was much better this morning from what I've heard." The Musketeer looked with an apologetically smile towards the Queen.

"Athos?" Cardinal Richelieu asked curiously. "Are you sure he's the one who delivered the letter? I mean why sending the Lieutenant of the Musketeers?" He frowned.

"I am sure, Cardinal." Gauthier looked with his eyes straight into the Cardinal's.

"Please wish him a speedy recovery." Anne told Gauthier, who bowed again. "Louis I think I will retreat to my quarters." With this said she stood up. Two of her ladies-in-waiting helped her to leave the room.

"Cardinal, find Captain Tréville. I want to know what this is all about. You can see that this message has upset my wife? And I add that this was a very stupid idea of yours. Never ever send my Musketeers to deliver a simple invitation again. You are dismissed." He shouted angrily at the Cardinal, who bowed his head and hurriedly left the throne room.

 **XXXXX**

Athos was drifting in and out of sleep. He wasn't really aware of what was going on around him. His eyelids flickered and Aramis wondered if his friend was awake, but his eyes stayed closed. A soft moan escaped his mouth, when Doctor Lemay started to remove the bandage around his thigh to examine the healing wound.

Athos felt suddenly colder than before. Something had changed. The blanket had been moved away from his upper body and he could feel an uncomfortable weight on his left leg. Without being conscious enough his body started to fight against the strange pressure. With his right leg he started to kick and at the same time he tried to move his arms and hands towards the pressure. The sudden movement hurt his thigh further and all he could do was to scream out loud, while he suddenly felt his right leg being touched and held down in a firm but gentle grip. More hands were holding him down. Exhausted he gasped for air while moaning over and over again.

"Stay sill, Athos. The Doctor is here to check on you." Aramis tried to calm his agitated brother.

Another pain went through his leg, when Lemay removed the last bit of the bandage and Athos opened his mouth wide and gasped aloud.

"Easy, easy." Was all Athos could hear, while sleep pulled him deeper away again.

He didn't see the concerned look from Aramis resting on his still pale face or the furrowed brows of the doctor bending now over his healing wound.

"There are no signs of infection, Aramis. The wound is healing properly." Lemay told the medic, while probing with his fingers gently over the stitched wound.

"But why is he still in so much pain?"

Aramis wanted to know. He was standing on the other side of Athos' bed, holding his friend's right hand to give him the support needed and looking back in his friend's face. A new layer of sweat was covering it. Apart from some whimpers and moans escaping from Athos' mouth while the doctor was touching the wounded area, his sick friend had stayed asleep.

 _Should I be worried that you haven't woken up? The Doctor tried to wake you earlier, called your name, touched your face. But no reaction …_

"Doctor why hasn't he woken up?" Aramis asked.

"His body is still very exhausted and after the night he had behind him I would say that he will sleep a lot longer."

"So, it's normal."

"Yes it is, and the draught I have prepared for him makes him sleepy too. Nevertheless I need to wake him and talk to him. But first I will rebandage his thigh and then I will listen to his heartbeat."

Athos felt more pressure on his leg, a cool substance on his sore skin and then the cotton of the fresh bandage the doctor put again around his thigh. He tried to ignore the burning pain, while his breathing changed. He could only hear some scraps of conversation. _Bandage … honey … draught … sleep … waking … fever …_

Athos tried to open his eyes but he still was too tired and so he drifted off again. He woke up anew when something cold was pressing on his chest. Not knowing what was going on he tried to remove the heavy item with his hands, but his right hand was somehow not moving and his left fell limply on his stomach. The cool thing still rested on his chest. _Heartbeat … not irregular … but … fast … don't like … I need to hear ..._ He heard a voice in the distance then the cold pressure vanished and instead something else was pressing on his chest under his shirt.

"Go … away …" He slurred still not completely awake.

"The doctor is checking on your heart, Athos. He will finish in a minute." Aramis bent over his friend and whispered into his ear. "Can you open your eyes." He asked quietly.

Athos felt the pressure disappearing again. The coolness vanished and something warm was covering his chest again.

Doctor Lemay had put Athos' shirt back again. He had lifted it to check first with his left palm and then with his ear his patient's heartbeat. Now that he had finished, he was tucking his patient in the thin blanket, which had covered his upper body earlier. He turned to Aramis:

"I would appreciate it if his heartbeat had slowed down more by now, but at least it's beating regularly again. "I think it is caused by the high blood could be also the reason why he feels the pain more intense and why he's still so exhausted." He added.

"What can we do?" Aramis asked.

"More rest, more sleep, more food and water to drink." Lemay explained. Then he turned all his attention back at his patient.

"Athos, can you hear me?" He asked with a loud voice.

Athos tried to open his eyes, but he had difficulty fighting against the tiredness. He wanted to sleep, to rest, to ignore everything that was going on around him. Sluggishly he blinked several times with his eyelids. Aramis could see the green colour around the black pupils. Athos' eyes only opened for several seconds but then he closed them again, his head lolled on the other side, away from where Lemay was standing and with a half opened mouth he mumbled:

"... so … tired … need … sleep …"

"You can sleep very soon again. I only need you awake for several minutes. I need to talk to you and then we will give you another pain draught." Lemay patiently explained.

Athos listened but he had no strength to open his eyes. Aramis stepped next to his face again, while still holding his right hand and gently pressing it, he mumbled in his ear:

"Come on my friend, I know you can do it. Open your eyes, please."

Athos turned his head towards Aramis. Then he started to fight again. It took him over two minutes but finally he managed to open his eyes. Exhausted he looked at Aramis.

"I'm so tired …" He whispered.

"I know _mon ami_." Aramis gently stroked over Athos' hair.

"That's normal Athos." Lemay explained from the background. "Aramis told me that you are still experiencing a great deal of pain. Can you tell me where it hurts you the most?" He asked.

Athos turned his head towards Lemay, his eyes only half open he stayed silent, looking towards the doctor and thinking hard.

"What?" He mumbled.

"Where does it hurt you the most?" Lemay repeated gently.

"My leg …" Athos gasped, when his body was gripped by another pulsing pain.

"Anywhere else?" The doctor asked.

"Don't know …" Athos answered confused.

Aramis was wondering why Athos was suddenly so sleepy. He had been more coherent earlier. Had his brother a set back? Concerned his glance wandered back to Lemay, who stayed calm.

"Besides your thigh. Do you feel any other pain?"

"Noo … tired …" Athos closed his eyes again.

"Stay with me." Lemay ordered Athos, while gently patting his patient's cheeks and Athos opened his eyes again.

"Where does it hurt you?" Aramis gently asked gently.

"My leg ... a pulsing pain … each time … I move …" Athos mumbled.

"Anywhere else? Do you have a headache? Do you feel dizzy? Are you experiencing any chest pain?" Lemay asked.

"No … just my left leg …" Athos searched the eyes of the doctor. "Will I be able to walk again … I mean …" He paused and turned then his head away.

"I don't see why you won't be able to use it. Your leg will need rest and training, but give it time." Lemay answered.

"Why is it still hurting so much?" Athos mumbled.

"Your wound is healing. I believe the pain draught you have been given earlier is abating. That's why you feel your leg hurting more again and the potion combined with the pain makes you sleepy too."

"Hmm …" Athos mumbled, glad that the Doctor told him that he would be able to walk again, but he still wasn't convinced about the answer.

"Give it time."

"See, I told you earlier." Aramis gently pressed his friend's hand.

"The blood loss is making you tired too. You need to drink more hot broth and I will prepare you another pain draught, you will have to drink." Lemay told Athos.

"Doctor, can you wait with him, while I will go and ask Serge for some fresh broth."

Aramis stood up and before Athos could protest or stop Aramis from leaving the medic was already out of the door of the infirmary. Outside Aramis paused for a moment in the warm air and let the sun shine on his face, while he was inhaling the fresh air.

 _I am fleeing the room. I should ask another Musketeer to bring the broth and go back to Athos. Dear God, for a moment I feared that Athos had had a setback. But of course the doctor is right. A healing wound hurts and without a painkiller it makes you more tired and exhausted. The new layer of sweat on his forehead is caused by the pain and that the Captain, d'Artagnan and Porthos are still not back doesn't help to calm Athos either._

Aramis angrily drove his hands through his hair.

 _I need something to distract myself while waiting and watching over Athos. I will fetch my pistols, then I can clean them, while he is resting and sleeping._

While Lemay busied himself with preparing a new pain draught, Athos came back more and more to his senses. The information that his leg would heal properly had calmed him. Realising that Aramis had left he came up with a new idea.

"Doctor?" He asked and Lemay turned around to his patient.

"What is it Athos?"

"Would you mind helping me standing up. I want to see if I can move my left leg."

"You can move your leg in your lying position and you will see, wait." Lemay removed the sheet from Athos' left leg. Try to move it now." Lemay rested his hands on Athos' leg, waiting for his patient to follow his instruction.

"No." Athos protested. "I need to stand and walk to confirm that I will be able to use it again."

"Athos, I assure you. Your leg will heal. Right now it will only hurt you more. Let's do it tomorrow."

"I need to know now." Athos insisted. Sitting up in his bed, ignoring the pain in his leg, best as he could, he moved both of his legs slowly over the corner of his bed."

Lemay, who had returned to his previous task, put down the cup he was just holding in his hands and hurried next to him.

"Help me up."

Athos ordered now in a commanding tone and the Doctor followed him, knowing that his stubborn patient wouldn't stop until he had his will. He bent over his patient and helped him to stand on the wooden floor. Both of Athos' arms were now resting on Lemay's shoulders to have a better grip. Under normal circumstances Athos would have never done this. But he knew that Aramis wouldn't allow him to get up and his iron will to know how his leg really was, was stronger than his pride.

"Put your pressure on the right foot, Athos and lean on me. Then we can try to see if you can walk with your left leg. Only a few steps." He ordered.

Athos only listened half- hearted. He was fighting against the pulsing pain not only in his leg, but in his head as well. Standing up after lying for several hours, left him dizzy. A new layer of sweat was forming on his forehead and he felt his breathing changing.

"I told you it's too early." Lemay protested. "Why don't you sit down on the mattress and I'll help you to lie down again." The doctor tried.

"No." Athos gasped under gritted teeth. "I want to walk." He said, while leaning heavily all his weight on Lemay's shoulders.

Athos heard the doctor talking to him more words. He had the impression that he was diving in a lake with unclear water. He could hear the words the doctor spoke to him only they were unclear and as if from a far away distance, even though Lemay was talking directly in his ear. He didn't understand what the doctor was saying. Instead he heard his heavy pulsing heart in his ears and when he tried to look at Lemay he did not see one, but two doctors. Exhausted he let his head hang.

"Athos?"

Lemay tried again. Recognising the distant glance in his patient eyes and the unsteadiness in his whole body. "We stop here. Your body is in no condition to stand or even walk. Do you hear me?"

No answer from Athos. Lemay wanted to help him back down on the mattress, but suddenly Athos struggled against him.

"Nooo." He groaned. "... need … to walk …" He gasped.

Then without further warning Athos tried to put pressure on his left leg. The first step he managed without noticing the pain, but the second was pure horror and agony for the weak soldier. He felt the stabbing pain, when he put more weight on his left leg. It felt like thousand needles being pushed into the open wound on his thigh. The stitched wound started to protest and all he could do was putting his weight back on his other leg and put more of his weight on Lemay's shoulders. He felt his left leg giving away under him. He tried to fight against it, but besides the immense pain in his head, his chest started to hurt suddenly again. He had the feeling that his heart wanted to escape his rib cage, so hard was it beating, leaving him to cry out loud. His head was swirling. He didn't hear Lemay talking to him anymore, he gasped for air, while darkness was covering his mind.

"Help me …"

Was all he could say, then he lost his fight against unconsciousness and his whole body went limp making him nearly collapse together with Lemay on the cold floor.

Athos' upper body was now leaning on Lemay's chest, his arms dangling lifeless on the doctor's back. Lemay could feel the rapid breathing on his neck and the fast heartbeat of his patient pulsing in his chest while he was holding him under his armpits. Inwardly he cursed himself. Why he had allowed his patient to stand up, not knowing if the movement had ripped the stitches on his patient's thigh, while having difficulties to hold the weight of his patient any longer.

 ** _To be continued …_**

 ** _A special thanks goes out to my beta Beth!_**


	29. Chapter 29

**_Here's the next chapter, already today, because I don't know when I will find time to post next weekend._**

 ** _To all of you who are good in medical details. I think I will go slightly au with medical facts. I'm not a doctor and have not that much medical know-how, so I am well aware that some of the medical details I am describing here, are wrong. So please be patient with me._**

 ** _You asked why Athos' leg is still hurting that much? He has been shot only the previous day and the wound would hurt still the same like when he was shot, when Porthos removed the arrow. Athos will need time to recover. According to a dear friend he must feel like a weak kitten due to the injury at his leg and the blood loss. So it's a wonder that he even managed to get up and tried to stand. He's simply very stubborn …_**

 ** _Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews._**

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _Excellent chapter. There are times I could slap Athos for his stubbornness. He certainly doesn't make things easy for himself. Aramis will be furious when he finds out._**

 ** _Thank you so much for your review. Well, I know what you mean. Even in illness he is stubborn, poor Aramis. He has to deal with him alone …_**

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _I liked the fact that Louis was ticked off at Richelieu over having one of his Musketeers delivery a simple missive. Happy he shouted at the cardinal. Very happy at how displeased he was and showed it. I know the Cardinal's behind this and he seemed a bit surprised that Athos was the one to go, unless he was faking it. Maybe he wanted Treville to go and have something happen to the captain. Ah, it boggles the mind the way this story is twisting and turning. And Lemay should really have known better than to help Athos stand up._**

 ** _Thank you for your lovely review. Oh, yes Louis was angry about Richelieu. He's the King and he should give the orders to his Musketeers not the Cardinal. Well, is the Cardinal really behind this? What reason would he have to see Athos dead …? Lol I think you are coming nearer and nearer to the solution about the letter/missive._**

 ** _And about Lemay, you are right, he should have known better, but it is the first time he has to deal with a stubborn Musketeer called Athos ;-)_**

 ** _Enjoy the next chapter xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 29**

"What are you doing with your pistol, Aramis?"

Athos asked curiously after waking up. He had turned his head towards the medic and blinking sluggishly while wondering how he ended in his bed. Athos tried to hide the fact that he was still in immense pain, but Aramis could see it in the expression on Athos' face.

"Oh, I brought them to clean when you decided to faint and next time I can stop you with them, when you are up to do foolish things." Aramis looked critically in Athos' face and decided then to let the subject drop for a moment. Athos was still not well enough and he was sure that Athos knew that trying to stand on his injured leg was a bad idea. When his brother closed his eyes again and tried to oppress another moan, Aramis bent more over his sick friend's face and quietly asked: "Your leg?"

Athos only nodded.

"So what are you … ahhhh …" He groaned and briefly opened his eyes.

"You should have accepted another pain draught from the doctor, but you didn't want to have one." Aramis chided him, with a fast movement he stood up, put the pistol he had just cleaned and loaded on the table next to Athos' bed and walked over to the place, where doctor Lemay had left the prepared draught.

"Aramis … no …" Athos tried to stop his friend while panting for air.

"Why do you want to suffer?"

Aramis looked at Athos confused, then he returned next to his brother's side. He could see some beads of sweat on Athos' forehead and he reached for a wet cloth to wipe his brother's still pale face.

"I don't … want … to suffer." Athos said behind gritted teeth. "But I need to stay focused, when Captain Tréville returns … I want to have a clear mind … and this draught … leaves me confused … and … tired." He gasped, trying to find a better position, while reaching with both hands at the bandage over his wound and stroking over the hurting spot. "Maybe I've ripped my stitches …" He murmured.

"Stop that." Aramis took both of his friend's hands in his and put them back on the mattress. "No, your stitches are still intact. The doctor checked after you fainted. Do you recall that?"

Athos turned his head away and looked into the large infirmary, avoiding Aramis' reproachful gaze. He knew it had not been the wisest idea to ask the doctor if he could stand up, while Aramis was away bringing something for the doctor. But he had needed to know, if his knee, leg and foot could still carry him, if he could still use his leg.

Doctor Lemay had told him that everything would be alright. Nevertheless in his confused and weakened state he suddenly felt the urge to need to know, if he would be able to walk again. While blinking he remembered what had happened earlier. Embarrassed Athos now looked away. He had collapsed in the doctor's arms. He had no idea how he ended up back in the bed and under the light sheets, but he guessed that Aramis had something to do with it.

"You want to talk about it?" He heard Aramis' caring voice now.

"About what …?"

"You fainted, because you thought that standing up was such a good idea. Your body is weak Athos. I still wonder how you even managed to sit up on your own and I wonder even more how you convinced Lemay to help you with this stupid idea. You are still very ill." Aramis chided him, while searching Athos' eyes, who tried to avoid his angry gaze.

"I didn't faint, but passed out." Athos protested quietly, he was too weak to glare angrily at Aramis and so he stayed silent.

Aramis sighed deeply.

 _No, now is not the time to argue with him. He looks so miserable, so pale. My God Athos you nearly died … why can't you simply be an obedient patient. Listening to what others are telling you …_

Aramis considered what he should say and decided after several minutes of silence to simply calm and comfort his ailing brother.

"Give it time, Athos. Your leg will still need several weeks to heal. So you will need a stick to walk for a while and it will still hurt you."

"I wish it would heal sooner." Athos whispered. "What happened?" He added and turned his head back in order to see Aramis' eyes.

"Well, according to Doctor Lemay you walked two steps, then you screamed out loud, I guess because of the massive pain you had to endure, while putting all your weight on your left leg and then you fainted … er … I mean ... passed out. Lemay was expecting something like that, because he caught you in his arms, so that you didn't drop like a heavy stone on the cold floor, but then he needed to wait for me to help you back into your bed." Aramis smiled.

"Great, do you tell me that I was lying in the arms of the doctor."

"Well, I would say it was more like hanging. Yes, this would be the accurate description, your head down, your eyes closed and your heart beating, such as if you had fought all recruits at the same time for over an hour." Aramis paused, then he gently put his hand on Athos' arm and added softly: "You scared me."

Athos stayed silent, while trying to gulp. He waited for Aramis to explode, to be angry, to shout at him, that the medic stayed so calm said more to him, then loud and angry words.

 _He's scared to lose me. I not only feel miserable, I am miserable and weak._

"I'm sorry that was not my intention." Athos mumbled ruefully.

"Athos, try to sleep." Aramis ordered his stubborn friend.

"I can't. I need to know that d'Artagnan and the Captain are safe."

"They are. I am sure of it. I will wake you, when they are back. So now, listen to me, close your eyes and sleep or I will make you drink this draught."

"Nooo …" Athos groaned.

In order to prevent drinking the bitter taste of the pain draught, he laid his head back on his pillow, closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain in his thigh. He felt Aramis' hands on his upper body, when the medic reached for an additional blanket to keep his brother warm.

A knock at the door disturbed Aramis in finishing, checking over his friend's well-being. He sighed inwardly. Athos could be a stubborn mule, when it came to illness and right now he really would have loved to convince Athos, that the draught would take the pain away from him. But he could understand that Athos didn't want more of this bitter drink that seemed to leave him confused.

 _Who is it? Maybe the doctor has forgotten something or Tréville is already back, but the Captain would not knock at the door of the infirmary. He knows that there is a patient sleeping._

Aramis was already angry about the loud noise, but Athos hadn't opened his eyes, so he hoped that his friend had finally fallen asleep again.

Aramis quickly approached the door and opened it. The first thing he recognised was a strange man he had never seen before, the second was the cold, hard iron of a main gauche which hit his temple. Aramis was concussed at once and dropped like a stone on the floor. Blood was dripping down over his cheek.

The intruder ignored the Musketeer who was now lying on the floor between the door, so that he could not close it. He needed to hurry. His eyes looked around and he spotted the only patient, who was lying in this infirmary in a bed next to the door. The man opened confused his eyes, when he heard the loud noise of Aramis' collapsing body.

"Aramis? Who is it? What's wrong?" The man asked in a now agitated voice.

Athos had been dozing for a few minutes not really able to fall asleep, because each time he moved only a little bit, his leg started to hurt him again and he was wide awake. He had heard the knocking on the door, but decided to ignore it.

 _Tréville wouldn't knock. That's not like him. He, Porthos and d'Artagnan would burst into the room checking on me. It must be someone else and I don't want to talk to anyone now. Aramis is right I should try to sleep, maybe I should ask him for the draught. I was stupid to try and walk already. What did I want to prove. No, I needed to know, if I could still use my leg. At least now I know._

A loud noise drove Athos out of his semi-sleep, confused he slowly opened his eyes.

"Aramis?"

He asked, but no answer. Instead he could first hear and then see a strange man approaching him with a weapon in his hand. A main gauche. Athos had no time left to check if Aramis was still alive. He could only see his boots.

 _The intruder must have knocked him out. Please, Aramis be alive. This man wants to kill me not you._

Athos blinked his eyes several times to have a better look at the stranger, who now bent over him, ready to slit his throat with the expensive small sword.

"Oh, I didn't know it would be this easy …" The man said with a heavy French accent and smiled dangerously at Athos. "Sorry, about your friend." He then murmured while moving nearer with the weapon towards Athos' throat.

The swordsman knew he had to fight. He had to do something. Otherwise he would be dead in an instant. Running away in his condition was no option. His little excursion earlier had proven that he was not able to stand on his left leg, and he would not be able to walk.

Athos could see the dark irises of the eyes of the stranger. For a short moment he wondered if he had seen this man before. He decided to start to talk to the stranger. Maybe this way he could stall some important time. But for what? He would not be able to shout for help. Aramis was still lying on the floor, not moving. From what Athos could see his body was blocking the door, that at least stood open.

 _If only I can make it out of this bed, I could try to crawl over the floor to Aramis and try to drag him out. With loud shouting … someone will come … I am sure that Tréville has ordered extra guards ... But first I need to … figure out a way, how I can stop this man from killing me._

"Who are you? What do you want from me?"

Athos asked in a weak voice, pretending that he was weaker and unable to defend himself. In his mind he was going through all possible options but his greatest fear was still that the man had killed Aramis.

The stranger gave a loud laugh.

"Don't you recognise me, Musketeer?"

Athos frowned.

 _I must have met him before, but where?_

The man now put one of his knees on the mattress, bending more over Athos' upper body and putting his main gauche to his throat. Athos could smell the breath of the stranger, the garlic taste made him nearly sick.

Athos didn't dare to gulp. He could feel the sharp blade being pressed at his adam's apple. He closed his eyes for a moment.

 _I need to think. Talking to him, won't stop him. One wrong move and I will bleed to death. Wait with my right leg, I can try to kick him in his lower body. There where it hurts the most, but first this blade has to leave my throat._

Athos knew that he had to act now. Any time to wait and think was now gone, he had no more time left.

"I see, you are here to kill me, please would you have the courtesy at last to tell me why?"

Athos whispered, feeling the blade at his soft skin each time he moved his lips. Athos stared with his green eyes into the stranger's nearly black eyes.

The other man removed the blade again. Another evil grin appeared on his face.

"Who cares?" He laughed bitterly. "Someone who we owe a favour to has asked us to do it. It's nothing personal … arghhh."

Athos had expected that the man would remove the blade, while answering him. This was the moment that he used to start his attack. With both hands he grabbed the man's hand that was holding the main gauche. With all the strength he could spare, Athos tried to remove the weapon from the stranger's hand but the other man was strong. Not expecting that Athos would still have so much power he screamed out loud, when Athos buried one of his finger nails in the attacker's hand, but then he changed his position and with his other hand, he started to reach for his knife too. The blade came nearer and nearer to Athos' neck. The only way Athos could see an option to defend himself was shifting his right arm in front of his throat.

"Oh no!" The other man now screamed. "You think I am stupid, that I am a fool. You are wrong."

With a strong move he pushed the main gauche into Athos' right upper arm. The swordsman imagined that he had to feel something, but nothing. His eyes only followed the sharp blade. At the corner of his eye he could see the tilt of the small sword, the blade was now sticking in his arm.

Athos gasped as he realised that he knew the owner of this blade. His eyes widened in horror and suddenly he forgot everything, but started to retrieve his right leg and foot from under the blanket and kicked against the stranger several times.

The other man coughed out loud and gasped, while he was still holding onto the blade and trying to twist it and push it deeper in his victim's arm. He wondered where the injured man suddenly had all this power from. It seemed that he didn't feel any pain at all in his arm. When the man's right foot kicked him in a weak spot between his legs, the attacker pulled the knife out and landed with a loud gasp on the floor, whimpering and catching for breath.

"What have you done to him?"

Athos now shouted, while looking furious at his attacker. His bleeding arm completely forgotten the swordsman's eyes didn't let go of the intruder. The intruder started to retreat further into the infirmary, catching for breath and holding his hands between his legs.

"You bastard ... you will die ... for this." He shouted, while groaning loud.

Athos now sat up in his bed. His heart was beating in his chest much too quickly, he could hear it sounding in his ears. His vision started to become blurred.

 _If he has this main gauche this can only mean … No, please, d'Artagnan. Be alive … I could never forgive myself … this is a never ending nightmare. Aramis is still lying there on the floor not moving, I can't move either and now d'Artagnan … What did this evil creature do to my little brother?_

Juan was now standing again, suddenly realising what had caused his victim to shout at him in such force and kicking at him. The main gauche of the boy … he must have recognised it.

"Oh, no worries, you will be soon reunited with your little friend in hell."

He laughed provocatively and started to approach Athos again. This time he decided to go for the heart. One strong jab in his chest and the Musketeer would be dead in an instant. He had wasted enough time already. He needed to hurry.

Athos who tried to sit up in his bed, knocked down a small cup that was standing on the small table next to his bed.

 _I need to move … or I am dead. I can't defend myself any longer. I am too weak. I can't flee …_

His eyes wandered over to the table and he spotted Aramis' pistol, which was lying next to his right hand, already loaded.

 _Aramis has cleaned his weapons while waiting for me to wake up. He always does it when he feels restless. He must have been worried. I'm such a fool … I shouldn't have … not now Athos ..._

The swordsman reached with his trembling right hand for the pistol, just in time to stop the second attack. The man ran next to him, the main gauche raised dangerously and ready to plunge it into his chest. Athos turned himself to the left side, the blade went into the mattress. With his shaking and now somehow numb right hand he pulled the trigger of the pistol. He had aimed at his attacker's chest, but right now, he had no idea if the bullet would hit him at all. He had turned his head into the other direction. His hand was trembling like a single leave on a tree on a stormy day. He heard the bullet being fired. Then a loud scream, a dumb noise and his attacker collapsed in a heap on the floor, moaning and screaming aloud.

 _Morbleau, if there are still sounds from him, he is still alive._

Athos turned around to have a better look. The main gauche was lying on the mattress next to his right arm, the stranger was lying on the floor, holding his bleeding right shoulder.

 _I have hit him in his shoulder, but this will not stop this maniac. I need to move. I need to drag_ _Aramis out of here._

Athos dared to look over to his friend, hoping that he would show any signs of waking but he was still lying face down in the doorway. The swordsman carefully sat up on his bed, ignoring the loud moaning of his attacker and getting hold of the main gauche with his left hand, he moved both of his legs over the corner of the bed.

For a moment he was confused, because his left leg didn't seem to hurt him at all, his confusion changed the very second when he set both of his feet on the ground and tried to stand upright. He could do one step, but then his left leg gave away and he collapsed onto the floor.

With his left strength he crawled over the wooden infirmary floor. The expensive blade still in his hand, which he had given to d'Artagnan several weeks ago, after his little brother had been commissioned by the King as a Musketeer. It had been a special day back then and he had been really proud of him. When he had gifted him the precious dagger the next day, d'Artagnan's eyes had been shining.

 _"_ _For you."_

He had simply said and he had meant I'm proud of you, never being really good at showing his feelings or emotions.

 _Not now. I need to focus, I need to reach Aramis and save him. Tréville was with d'Artagnan. Perhaps d'Artagnan is simply injured. Tréville will protect him. He cares for him, he cares for all of his men … and Porthos, Porthos is on his way to them too. Save Aramis. He needs my help now! There's nothing I can do for d'Artagnan right now. Come on Athos! I have to reach Aramis and bring him to safety … somehow ..._

Athos felt how his own strength left him with each move he made towards Aramis. He still didn't feel any pain, but he could see through his blurred vision the red colour of the blood which was dripping down his arm and running over his right hand. He could hear behind him his attacker starting to move and trying to stand up.

 _I am such a fool. I could have killed him with the main gauge … why didn't I …_

Athos groaned inwardly.

 _I can't think clearly anymore. These horrible draughts, I told Aramis. They are making me think as if through a fog or is it me losing too much blood ..._

Finally, which felt for Athos like an eternity, he reached Aramis. He shook him softly with his left hand, but the medic didn't move. He slowly made his way behind Aramis and turned him on his back. The medic's head lolled on his chest, when Athos managed to get behind his brother. Through his still blurred vision he could see some more blood on Aramis' left temple.

"Aramis, can you hear me? Wake up. Come on. I need your help."

Athos whispered in his friend's ear, but still no reaction. He tried to feel for Aramis' pulse, but his hands and fingers were trembling too much. He could feel Aramis' breath on his neck.

 _Thank God. You are alive. I need to bring you out of here._

Gently Athos placed both of his arms around Aramis' hip and started to pull, but he barely managed to move the both of them. Weakness was covering now his whole body, gripping him like an invisible enemy and not letting go of his hurting body.

Athos heard a noise behind him and he slowly turned his head around. The attacker had found Aramis' second pistol and aimed it at his head. The swordsman stared at Juan. Finally realising that it was the man he had seen next to Dona Ynes-Mancia, when he had delivered the letter from the Queen.

"Don't shoot him."

Athos heard himself saying, trying to protect Aramis' body with his own as best as he could, but he was too weak to leave the position he was now in. Athos didn't dare to move his eyes away from the pistol. He could hear the loud noise, the shot of the bullet and he expected that now everything was over. He waited for the pain to come, blackness which would pull him finally back, but nothing.

Athos blinked and looked confused at Juan, who had dropped Aramis' pistol on the floor. His attacker made two uneasy steps towards him, then he swayed dangerously and collapsed dead on the floor. His mouth opened such as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't. All life had left the dead body. His eyes - filled with horror and surprise - starred bizarre at the ceiling. Blood was seeping out of his chest. Juan wasn't able to hurt him or Aramis any longer ...

 ** _To be continued ..._**

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 ** _Thank you Beth for proofreading, if there are mistakes in it they are mine not hers. I worked over this text several times._**


	30. Chapter 30

**_Hey there,_**

 ** _sorry for the delay in posting. I was away last weekend and then with my birthday present occupied. I just re-read my ch 30 and I had to work over it again, so all my hard work my dear beta Beth has put in might have vanished again. So if you find more mistakes than usual they are all mine._**

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 ** _To those of you who I can't thank for their lovely reviews via pm:_**

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tricia1630:

"Oh my ...nearly had a heart attack myself there! Great chapter! Good pace and tension...loved it! Now who shot Juan? ...hmmmm"

I am sorry tricia, that wasn't my intention, hope you are well. Last time we chatted you still were so puhh. Thank you so much! I loved writing this action scene, but it was a little tricky to figure out if Athos could go, that's why he had to try in ch 28 …

Big question who shot … well … you will find out soon. xx Kira

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Barbara:

"Excellent again. Keeping us guessing about who shot Juan but now Aramis is hurt. Need next chapter quickly."

I really have to apologise, will send you the link as fast as possible. Thank you for your words. Now you will find out who is their guarding angle. xx Kira

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Beeblegirl:

"Oh dear, poor Athos really"

Thank you so much. Well yes, really, sorry … poor Athos … sniff … xx Kira

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Debbie:

"I don't feel I'm close at all to figuring out anything about the letter. It just seemed to me that Richelieu was acting a bit guilty. LOL! Thanks for thinking so anyway.  
It's funny how no Musketeer wants to a pain draught, least of all Athos.  
Oh Athos is hurt AGAIN! Yikes!  
But it was the revelation that his attacker had d'Art's dagger that pushed him over the edge, giving him more strength to fight back.  
Ah, wondering now who shot Juan and even more curious than ever over what all of this had to do with that darn letter!"

Wow thank you so much for your long review. Lol about the letter maybe I was teasing you the last time I little, you know me by now that I am good at that ;-)

Yes they are all stubborn when it comes to pain draught's brave men don't need such a thing. I guess they must have tasted horrible urghh ..

Poor Athos, what can I say, it had to be d'Artagnan's dagger the fear for his brother made him fight for his life. The adrenaline helps for a while … otherwise he would not have been able to get up.

I have to laugh about your last sentence, so funny.

Well one of your questions will be answered in the next chapter and about the "darn" *gg* letter lol … xx Kira

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 ** _So here is the next chapter, enjoy, next chapter next week, but of course I love to hear from all Aramis' fans over messenger asking me when my next chapter will be up ;-) Thank you Deane, Fleuramis xx_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

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 **Chapter 30**

 ** _Half an hour earlier_**

Porthos had a strange feeling, he didn't know why, he couldn't explain it, albeit his intuition told him to hurry and so he spurred his stallion to ride as fast as it could. He had shouted towards Tréville, turning his head to his left side, that he would ride faster and the older man nodded, shouting:

 _"_ _Your horse is still fresh and faster! Go ahead, I will follow, as fast as I can."_

Porthos knew that he was only about a quarter of an hour away from the garrison. Near to this place they had found Athos the day before. He shuddered remembering what Tréville and d'Artagnan had told him about what they had witnessed at _Château de Fontainebleau_.

 _Why does anyone want to see Athos dead? Is it really about the letter or is there more to it? Is it something personal? The more details I here, the complicated the whole incident appears._

He still could hear d'Artagnan's alarmed voice in his ears pleading him to hurry. The young man had looked so ashamed and embarrassed. He was certain that there was more to the story of the sprained ankle, but Tréville seemed to block and ignore each question he had had about that.

 _There's time. D'Artagnan will tell me, when he's up to it. Anyway, he is right. I have to hurry._

Finally Porthos arrived at the garrison. He jumped from his horse, gave it to Jacques, the stable boy, and asked two other Musketeers if anything suspicious had happened while he had been away. They both only shook their heads and at that moment he heard a pistol shot being fired. The noise came from the infirmary and made his blood freeze.

Without thinking he grabbed his pistol and ran towards the infirmary. He could see the open door, a man lying on the threshold: Aramis! Furthermore he could see how Athos reached him, while trying to move him further out of the door, but his brother was too weak. Another person appeared with a pistol aimed at Athos' head.

In horror Porthos watched how Athos tried to cover Aramis' body, moving himself directly in the line of fire. It was strange to see Athos moving so slowly, so uncoordinated. His brother' words pleading the stranger he shouldn't shoot Aramis broke his heart.

Porthos shook his head to get rid of the nightmare in front of him, but it didn't. He realised that now was not the time to hesitate and watch. With his loaded pistol Porthos stepped directly behind his two friends, who were both lying on the floor.

Aramis seemed to be unconscious. The streetfighter could see some blood running over his brother's cheek, his eyes closed, his head was resting on Athos' chest, who had somehow managed to get behind him. Athos' hands were encircling Aramis' hip, now he was leaning his head and shoulder more over Aramis.

Out of the corner of his eyes Porthos noticed that Athos was trembling. He looked pale as a ghost, but what scared Porthos the most was that Athos didn't hear him stepping behind him or hear him shouting his name. No reaction. He seemed to be caught in another world. He wasn't sure if Athos had been injured more, but the fact that he'd left his bed with his still injured and hurting leg wouldn't have been pleasant. Had he been hit by a bullet? He couldn't see anything in the few seconds his eyes and mind registered the whole picture in front of him.

Porthos had no more time left. The stranger - from his right shoulder there was trickling blood - was ready to shoot. With an evil grin on his mouth he aimed at Athos' head. He was so focused on Athos that he didn't hear Porthos.

 _Maybe that is where the bullet went I just heard being fired._ The streetfighter mused.

Porthos felt his own heart beating in his chest, when he finally pulled the trigger of his pistol. He watched the man dropping dead on the floor, the pistol landing next to him. The streetfighter rushed in front. He jumped over both of his friends. With his right foot he kicked the pistol away, checking with another glance if the attacker was really dead and looking for other possible threats, when he was sure, that there was no one else threatening his injured brothers he knelt down next to them and softly called Athos' name, but the sick Lieutenant couldn't hear him.

 **XXXXX**

Athos blinked confused at the dead man in front of him. He didn't know why his attacker had dropped dead in front of him. His mind was too confused. He felt cold and suddenly the immense pain in his leg returned and his right arm was no better. Frantically he tried to pull Aramis' body nearer to the door. He put his chin on Aramis' head to stop it from lolling around, he could feel the soft hair and he started to mumble in Aramis' ear.

"You're safe now. I have you. Wake up. Please be alive. Aramis, wake up."

Over and over again he repeated Aramis' name, not sure, if his brother could hear him. Athos had lost all senses of his surroundings and he couldn't think clearly anymore.

Quietly Porthos sat down next to him and gently touched his shoulder, while noticing the blood dripping from Athos' arm.

"Athos? Can you hear me? It's over. Whoever this was … he's dead."

Athos didn't answer, but whispered over and over again Aramis' name.

"Athos, it's alright. You can release Aramis out of your embrace. I will bring him over to this bed and have a look at his head wound."

Porthos tried to reach Athos while pressing his friend's left arm, but the only reaction Athos was showing was a frightened expression on his face, his eyes wide open - more black than green -, but somehow unfocused they stared into Porthos' face, blinking heavily. Porthos had the impression that Athos' had difficulty in seeing and registering what was going on around him.

"Athos, it's me Porthos. You are safe!"

Porthos said again, trying to remove Athos' trembling hand's from Aramis' stomach, but Athos only tightened his grip. More fear appeared on his facial expression and he hastily tried to pull Aramis further out of the infirmary, albeit he was too weak and he couldn't move an inch. Frustrated he glared angrily into Porthos' direction.

"Go away!" He shouted with a hoarse voice and mumbled towards Aramis. "I will bring you to safety. No one will harm you."

Porthos groaned inwardly. Athos doesn't recognise him. The swordsman was now shaking uncontrollably, his hands were trembling, and he could see the blood still running down over his right hand. His eyes rested on Aramis' still unconscious body.

 _I need to reach him somehow. He is in shock. I need help. Not sure how badly he is injured, but that blood is running down his arm is not a good sign._

"Athos?" Porthos tried again. This time he gently stroked over his friend's hair. "Let Aramis go. I will have a look at his wound and then I'll help you over to the bed. You are bleeding. You need help, Athos. Athos, do you hear me? Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are?"

Porthos inwardly prayed that Athos would finally understand him. Again Athos' eyes wandered back to Porthos and locked for a moment.

"Porthos, he's ... dead. It's … my … fault." Athos suddenly sobbed, gasping for air, while breathing more and more erratic.

The streetfighter hoped that exhaustion would finally win over Athos' body so that he would let go of Aramis', but Athos' grip was unchanged strong. Aramis' head was still resting on Athos' chest.

Somehow it was a peaceful image that Porthos had in front of his eyes: one of his brothers sleeping in the arms of his other, who watched over him, if it hadn't been for the nasty gash on Aramis' forehead and Athos' bleeding arm. Porthos watched Aramis' chest gently rising and falling.

 _At least a sign that Aramis is alive. Thank God he is only, but head wounds could be dangerous. I wish you would wake up Aramis._

Porthos looked back to Athos. His grip was still firm around Aramis upper body. His arms and hands were encircling him. Tremors were still running over Athos' whole body and tears were welling in his eyes.

"No, Athos. Aramis is alive. Do you hear me? He's only unconscious. I can see him breathing. Let me help you, the both of you. He will wake up again. He lives." Porthos tried to convince the injured swordsman somehow.

"Noooo …" Athos shouted with all his left strength.

Porthos didn't know what he could do. He could fight several men at once, but this. He felt his own emotions boiling in him, while he feverishly tried to figure out a way to help both of his brothers. He could hear more footsteps running towards them. Other Musketeers had arrived, standing now over them, staring at the whole scenery in front of them with their mouths and eyes wide open but they didn't move.

Porthos wished that one of them would help him, would know what to say or to do, to convince Athos to let go of Aramis, but they were simply as shocked as him. They had never seen their Lieutenant acting like this before. For a moment he considered simply to knock Athos out, but he didn't want to harm him further. In the distance he could hear the hooves of a horse, loud shouting and then another pair of footsteps, running over the hard concrete of the courtyard.

"What happened?" The loud angry voice of their Captain thundered over the courtyard of the garrison.

Porthos turned his head towards his commanding officer, when he was finally standing in front of him, with glistening eyes he explained:

"Someone has tried to kill Athos but I stopped him, the intruder is now dead. Aramis is unconscious from a head wound, but Athos doesn't want to release him. I am not sure, if he knows what is going on. I think he is in shock." Porthos explained to his Captain.

Tréville stared at his three men who were all lying or sitting on the floor. The other Musketeers around them didn't move, waiting for his orders. He knew he had to act fast. That Aramis didn't move at all concerned him, while watching him more closely he finally could see the rising and falling of his chest.

 _Thank God he is breathing._

Tréville looked at Athos and what he saw shocked him. His Lieutenant seemed lost. He looked frightened, his hands and arms, which had entangled Aramis were trembling. His pupils were wide and unfocused and worst of all he didn't seem to recognise Porthos or him. Porthos was right his officer was obviously in shock.

 _Alright I need to help them._

He turned around to the other Musketeers who observed the whole scenario.

"I need two of you to go to the palace and bring Doctor Lemay here, as fast as you can."

Two of his men nodded and hurried away. Tréville turned his head to the other men:

"You over there, double the gate guard and make sure that no other stranger comes within the walls and you two, bring this dead body out of the infirmary, now! Anybody else who has no task, bring bandages, warm water and after that leave!"

He bellowed his orders and his men started to follow his commands.

In the meantime Porthos had found a clean handkerchief in one of his pockets, which he now pressed down on Aramis' temple in order to finally stop the bleeding. The touch on the injured spot let Aramis' groan out loud. The injured medic tried to move, but felt something weak under his head. Confused he blinked several times, until his eyes finally opened.

The first thing Aramis saw were four – instead of two - brown eye's staring at him with a worried frown.

"It's about time that you wake up." Porthos mumbled softly, well aware that loud noise would only hurt Aramis' pulsing head even more.

"What … happened?"

Aramis slurred, still blinking and feeling now the strong grip around his upper body. He let his eyes wander down to his belly and he spotted Athos' red hand.

 _That's blood, is it my blood? Something must have hit me on my temple?_

Confused he tried to reach with his own hand to his head, but Athos' didn't allow him to move his hands and started to struggle with Aramis.

"Stop that, Athos." A loud voice commanded and Aramis squeezed his eyes' shut.

"Ouch! Not that loud Captain, please. My head …"

Aramis gasped and turned his eyes towards his Captain's, who sympathetically smiled at him for a second, but his smile disappeared. It was that moment when Athos let go of Aramis' right arm and the medic could lift his hand to his temple. His fingers ended up on Porthos' hand, who was still pressing the cloth down on the wound.

"Don't touch it. You have a nasty wound there." Porthos quietly whispered in his ear.

Aramis sighed and started to move his head, finally coming to the conclusion that Athos was the soft pillow he was resting on and that confused him even more.

"Why am I lying on Athos?" Aramis asked while his head started to throb heavily and his eyes started to droop.

"Stay awake, Aramis."

Porthos ordered, softly stroking with his thumb over Aramis' cheek, but the marksman was in too much pain and lost the fight against oblivion.

"Let him rest for a while." Tréville said to Porthos feeling that the streetfighter needed his advice now.

"He needs a doctor, maybe the wound needs stitches, I am not sure and we have to check on Athos. He's in a much miserable state than when I've seen him the last time." Porthos told Tréville.

"I know, Porthos, I know … I'm working on it Porthos, any ideas?" Tréville searched Athos' eyes, he'd been silent the past minute.

 _Something is going on in his mind. I am not sure, if he has realised that Aramis was awake, but he has listened to my command. Maybe that's the way I can reach him._

He looked at the strong man, who was still pressing the cloth at Aramis' head with one hand, while with the other hand, he tried to find out where Athos' blood was coming from."

"I thought about carrying Aramis over to this free bed, but first Athos must let him go and I have no idea how to release him without hurting him furthermore."

"Hmm …" Tréville sighed. "Athos can you hear me?" He softly asked.

 _Why am I lying on the floor? What's going on … ? I feel so cold … I need to protect Aramis … there is a man … he has tried to kill me … he has killed d'Artagnan. Oh no … I can hear voices … I need to bring Aramis to safety … I … Captain … Tréville is here … I need help … I ..._

"Help me." Was all Athos managed to whisper, while he searched with his now half open eyes' his Captain'.

"We will, that's why we are here, but you have to let go off Aramis first." Tréville answered quietly, while smiling like a caring father at Athos and reaching for his left shoulder and pressing it, to comfort his injured officer. "Then I can help you, can you do that for me?"

 _Why is he so kind to me? He should be furious. D'Artagnan ... he's dead … and it's all my fault … my little brother was murdered … because …_

"Athos, can you hear me? Let him go. Let us help." Tréville gently stroked over his Lieutenant's hair.

"He's dead. It's all my fault." Athos gasped.

"Aramis is not dead." Tréville softly whispered in Athos' left ear. "He just woke up. He talked to us. Come son, let him loose. I need to check on your wounds. You belong back into bed not on a cold floor. You are shivering. You need a blanket to keep warm." He added gently.

But Athos only shook his head, more tears were running down over his cheeks.

"He's dead." He whispered, his voice nearly breaking.

 _Why can't they see? Tréville, Porthos they must know._

 _They lie to me ... why …?_

 _They don't want to harm me … but why?_

 _Don't they think that I can live with the truth … even if it is a bitter truth … oh …_

 _they don't say, because they think it will remind me of Thomas …_

 _At least they should tell me …_

Porthos sighed then he crouched on Athos' other side and reached for his left hand, lifted it and put it on Aramis' chest holding his own palm over Athos'.

"Athos, can you feel this? That's Aramis heartbeat. He's still alive, but I need to check on him and treat this nasty head wound. Come on, let him go."

Athos couldn't feel anything. His hand was trembling too much. His bleary eyes searched Porthos'.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbled and looked then on Aramis' left side.

Tréville's eyes wandered with him. Athos' eyes rested on the weapon that was lying next to Aramis' leg. A main gauche, the blade was bloody, probably Athos' blood. Tréville assumed. The Captain of the Musketeers reached for it and inspected the hilt a little longer, suddenly he groaned out loud.

"Are you alright, Captain?" Porthos asked confused.

"He's not talking about Aramis. He's talking about d'Artagnan. He believes that he is dead."

"How?" Porthos now looked over to Athos, more tears were running over his brother's face.

"It's true, isn't it?" He whispered. Tréville bent over Athos' not stopping to stroke over his hair.

"No, it's not Athos. D'Artagnan is alive." He sighed.

"Stop lying to me … at least … have the courtesy … to tell me … the truth." Athos sobbed.

Porthos looked at Tréville. He frowned:

"Why does he think that d'Artagnan is dead?" Then he turned to Athos. "Hey, d'Artagnan is not dead. He's alive, stop worrying, Athos. Henri is with him. He will be back soon. He told us to rush to save you." Porthos explained to Athos in a firm voice.

"Perhaps Juan told him. He stole d'Artagnan's main gauche, when our young Gascon sprained his ankle." Tréville told Porthos quietly, pointing with his fingers at the main gauche he was now holding in his other hand. "I believe this was a present from Athos to d'Artagnan after he had been commissioned, if I recall it correctly."

Tréville looked back to Athos. He wasn't sure if his officer had understood what they were talking about.

 _You are stubborn Athos. I need to check on you, but you won't let us. Anybody else would already have passed out. I need another way to make you understand._

"Athos, let Aramis go!" Tréville shouted in his loudest possible commanding tone.

Porthos who was still kneeling startled and looked confused at his Captain. But somehow the commanding tone reached Athos and he let both of his hands drop next to Aramis' body releasing him finally. The streetfighter didn't wait any longer. Gently he pulled Aramis away from Athos, lifted his unconscious body in his arms and carried the injured medic over to a free bed.

In the meantime Tréville went behind Athos' back.

"Stand up!" He ordered and to his own surprise Athos tried to get up.

Tréville helped him, putting both of his arms under Athos' armpits, pulling him this way in an upright position.

"Do you think you can walk over to the bed with my help?" He whispered gently into his Lieutenant's ear.

Athos not able to speak anymore nodded and tried to walk, but his left leg betrayed him and Tréville had to hold him in a strong embrace otherwise he would have ended on the floor again. Athos' eyes started to blink, he felt his head spinning and his heart galloping in his chest.

"I … don't … feel … so ..." Athos slurred, before finally losing his fight against oblivion.

Porthos, who turned around by Athos' words, could see the white in his friend's eyes, before they rolled back in his head and passed out.

Tréville felt Athos whole body' becoming limp. Suddenly Athos was lying lifeless in his arms and the heavy weight nearly made Tréville tip over. He strengthened his grip on Athos' body with both of his strong arms and fixed his lolling head with his chin.

"Athos!" He frantically shouted.

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	31. Chapter 31

**Hey there,**

 **Thank you for your reading and your reviews!**

* * *

 _Debbie_

 _"_ _Did you mean you were working on a birthday present or you had one? LOL! Well if you had one then here are belated wishes from me for you.  
I really laughed when Aramis woke up to wonder why he was lying on Athos. LOL!  
And I'm glad Treville realized Athos was talking about d'Art being dead and not Aramis.  
That should be a good reunion once Athos is coherent enough to talk to the Gascon."_

 _Thank you for your review. I worked on one which is now finished ;-)_

 _A small funny scene in all this drama and distress. Yes Aramis, guess he hadn't the intention to use his injured friend as a pillow._

 _The key was the main gauche, yes d'Artagnan has to hurry, but with his ankle he still needs time. I have checked and he will be in ch 32 again._

* * *

 _Barbara:_

 _"_ _OMG how much more must Athos suffer? And Aramis too? I need to know they are going to be ok very soon._ _Oh and I will need more tissues xx"_

 _Thank you for your review. The first question is a rhetorical one, you know me by now ;-)_

 _Yes poor Aramis … btw of course he would have been more cautious when he hadn't been overtired. Next chapter now because you asked me for a soon update and this is one of the chapters where I don't have to fill in a second scene. So here we go and sorry because of the tissues xxx_

* * *

 ** _I dedicate this chapter to Helen xxx_**

 ** _Not sure if the medical stuff is correct, I doubt it, but thank you for your tips._**

* * *

 **Chapter 31**

"I have you. You are safe, now."

Tréville mumbled feeling Athos' fast heartbeat under his palm while pressing it on his chest. Then he looked over to Porthos who just had laid Aramis down on a bed.

"Porthos, I know, you want to check on Aramis, but I need your help here first. Or I am afraid, we'll both end up on the floor." He told him.

Porthos turned around and quickly reached his Captain. Without waiting he helped Tréville carrying Athos over to the other bed and gently laid him back down on the mattress. The Captain was holding his shoulders and upper body, while Porthos transferred his long legs on the white sheet.

"What's wrong with him?" Porthos whispered.

"I don't know. I need to check him for wounds. He's bleeding here."

Tréville pointed to Athos' right shoulder. I need to stop the blood loss and then we need to check if the stitches in his leg are still intact. I think he is in shock, his whole body is trembling and thinking that d'Artagnan is dead, doesn't help him either."

Exhausted Tréville stepped away from Athos to have a better look at his sick officer. His eyes now closed, his face pale as death itself, his breathing irregular, a layer of cold sweat was glistening on his forehead, his limbs shaking and from time to time a soft moan escaped his lips.

"How's Aramis?" Tréville's eyes did not leave Athos' body while asking Porthos.

"Not sure, he's still unconscious."

"No, he's not." Came a weak voice from the next bed and Porthos hurried over to him. "Help me up, Porthos. Athos will need my help. Have you sent for the doctor?"

Aramis asked, while reaching with his hand again for his head wound, where Porthos' handkerchief was still lying.

"Stop that." Porthos chided him and grabbed for his hand. "You are in no condition to stand up."

"With your help I will manage. My head is aching, and I will lie down again, promise, but right now, we have to help Athos or he will die." Aramis answered in a firm tone.

"Bring him over here." Tréville ordered. "He won't stop complaining until he gets his way." He sighed, then he turned his head to two Musketeers, who arrived with hot water and fresh cloths. "Put it over there and then wait for the doctor and bring him here at once, when he arrives. We need him!" He ordered. Then he turned all his attention back to his suffering Lieutenant.

"We need to remove his shirt, Captain." Aramis told him, leaning with all his weight on Porthos and blinking several times. He knew that he had a blurred vision which was probably caused by a concussion, but he was far better than Athos.

Tréville reached for his main gauche and cut the shirt without waiting. He gently removed the fabric from Athos' upper body.

"Good." Aramis said. "Check where he is wounded and losing blood from and put pressure on these spots."

Porthos helped Aramis onto the chair next to Athos' bed and then hurried to fetch some fresh cloth.

"Found it. He has a deep cut in his upper right arm." Tréville sighed. "It's still bleeding, heavily."

"Put pressure, on it, Captain." Aramis said from the back. "Can you say if it is a stab wound or a wound caused by a bullet?"

"A stab wound." Porthos told Aramis, while handing the Captain the cloth, which the commanding officer pressed down. Athos moaned loud, but didn't wake up.

"Porthos, can you check Athos for any other wounds, check his head for a possible head wound, his upper body for cracked or bruised ribs and then his thigh. I don't like that he's unconscious. Maybe he is bleeding there too. If he loses too much blood it can make him not think clearly and it leaves him freezing. The tremors which are running over his body are an indication of to tuck him in several blankets to warm him." Aramis ordered.

Gently Porthos moved his hands, over Athos' head and upper body.

"No head wound … no bruised or cracked ribs."

"Thank God." Aramis mumbled.

"What about his thigh?" Tréville asked concerned.

"I will have a look now."

Porthos removed carefully Athos' breeches, but he did not need to remove the bandage, because when he pulled down the woolen trouser he could see that the bandage as well was already soaked through with Athos' blood.

Porthos sighed out loud, while reaching with his hand for more white cloth and putting it on the bleeding thigh, directly over the stitches that had been pulled.

"I am afraid, he has pulled the stitches and it's bleeding pretty heavily." Porthos said without turning around.

"I already assumed that." Aramis quietly added, then he took all his strength together, while ignoring the pain in his head which made him feel dizzy and stood up.

"What are you doing?" Tréville turned around to Aramis.

"I will have a look at his arm, Captain. We need to close both of his wounds as soon as possible, but I think it will be easier to start with his thigh. I have no idea how deep his cut on his arm is, but we need to clean the wound first. May I have a look?"

"Can you see anything?" Tréville asked his furrows wrinkled. "I mean with your head injury …"

"When I squeeze my eyes and concentrate on the spot I want to see, it works." Aramis quietly admitted. Then he repeated: "May I have a look, please."

Tréville lifted the cloth he was pressing on the wound and Aramis came nearer. With his fingers he carefully touched Athos' arm and the wound. The nasty wound caused by the main gauche was still bleeding and he knew they needed to hurry.

"The wound is deep, but I can't see what the blade has hit. If a nerve was cut he won't be able to use his right arm anymore." He paused and gulped. "Doctor Lemay has to look at his arm and decide what to do."

"What do you mean with decide what to do? Do you mean he will lose his arm?" Porthos asked shocked from behind.

"No, I don't think so. But Lemay simply has to examine this wound." Aramis said behind gritted teeth.

"You mean the blade has damaged Athos' arm so that it won't heal properly?" Tréville asked shocked.

"I don't know Captain. I need a better look later, but first we need to re-stitch his thigh. Captain, you will need to stitch the wound, because right now I am not able to do that … I'm sorry."

"I have stitched wounds before, no worries, Aramis." Tréville answered.

"You can put a fresh cloth on the wound on his arm and bind it as strong as you can, Captain." Aramis added. He swayed dangerously as a sudden dizziness gripped his whole body and he knew he had to sit down again.

The Captain and Porthos shared worried glances when they saw Aramis stumbling backwards and sighed relieved when they observed that Aramis had found the chair and sat down again.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled towards them, while feeling the pain in his aching head more and more.

"Don't be." Tréville told him. "You are wounded. As soon as I have dealt with the wound on Athos' arm I will release Porthos and he will help you back over to the bed. He will treat your wound."

Aramis wanted to shake his head, but he considered that it was not a good idea.

"What happened?" Aramis asked with a weak voice, while Tréville bound the wound on Athos' upper right arm with a tourniquet.

"I second this question."

A voice from the door stated in a firm voice. They all turned their heads. Doctor Lemay was standing in the doorway, his leather bag which contained medicine in his right hand.

"There was another attack on Athos' life, doctor." Tréville explained.

Lemay now stepped into the infirmary. His eyes wandered from the unconscious Athos over to Aramis. When he looked down on the floor he could see traces of blood which led from the bed to the door, where he was just standing.

Lemay sighed:

"Let me guess Athos was forced to leave the bed, collapsed on the floor, when his left leg did not support his body weight, he crawled over to that door in order to get help and tore his stitches?"

"Where do you know that from?" Porthos frowned and looked from Athos' thigh up, which he had just had finished bandaging with another tourniquet.

"There is a trace of blood on the wooden floor from the bed over to the door." Lemay informed him.

Tréville and Porthos eyes wandered down onto the floor. Tréville groaned inwardly. He had not noticed yet.

"So he will need new stitches." Lemay added. "And by the look of your head Aramis …", he turned to the medic, who was slightly leaning over the chair that he was sitting on "... you will probably need stitching too."

With two more steps he approached the medic, who nearly fell off the chair, swaying dangerously and having problems opening his eyes.

"I will bring you to the next bed and will have a look at your head wound, Aramis." Lemay told him, while pulling the medic to his feet.

"No, I don't need help, it's Athos. He was injured in his arm, too. He has lost a lot of blood. I can wait." Aramis tried to protest.

"As far as I can see Porthos and Tréville are taking care of Athos. I will help you over there and have a look at your head wound. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner I can help your friend." Lemay gently pushed Aramis towards the bed, where he had lain only several minutes before.

"Lean on me." The doctor ordered. Then he turned his head towards the Captain of the Musketeers. "Tell me, Captain, where else is Athos wounded. I will need hot water, alcohol and perhaps some medicine from my bag. I will have a look as soon as I can."

Tréville informed the doctor in a few words, what had happened, while Lemay finally managed to lay Aramis down again.

"Captain, if I recall correctly you have already stitched wounds?"

"More than I wanted, believe me."

"Good, you told me that Athos' arm is bandaged with a tourniquet right now."

"Yes." Tréville answered.

"Do you see any blood seeping through the bandage?" Lemay asked, while examining Aramis' head wound more closely, reaching for a fresh cloth, some water and a fresh bandage.

"No, the tourniquet seems to have stopped that."

Lemay nodded satisfied.

"Alright, I will treat Athos' arm in a minute. Concentrate with Porthos on Athos' thigh. Clean the wound with warm water and a little alcohol and then stitch it again." Lemay fastened a bandage around Aramis' head, while Tréville moved over to Porthos, who was busy fetching all the materials that were needed.

"Your wound won't need stitches, Aramis. You were very lucky." Lemay informed the medic, who had now closed his eyes.

"Tell this my aching head." Aramis mumbled quietly, exhaustion written all over his face.

Lemay bent over his face and asked Aramis to open his eyes. The medic sluggishly followed the instruction. Carefully the doctor checked Aramis' eyes.

"Rest Aramis, by the look of your enlarged pupils you have concussion. Your head must hurt you right now, I'll give you a pain draught in several minutes."

"Check on Athos. His arm … it looks bad ..." Aramis mumbled.

"I will do that now." He pressed Aramis' arm. "Try to catch some sleep. I will wake you later."

"Hmm … I can't … Athos …"

Aramis tried to protest, but his head seemed to have another idea. The pain became intenser and Aramis eye's drooped until he finally closed them.

"His wound doesn't need stitches." Lemay informed the other Musketeers. "But we need to wake him at least every two hours and check on him. His head will be painful for the next days and he will feel dizzy for a while." Lemay added then he moved away from Aramis and went over to Athos' bed.

"Last time I was here, I told you to get better." Lemay told his sleeping patient, he sighed and looked at the other two men.

Tréville looked up from the task, he was just doing. He had cut Athos' braies and bandage in order to reach the wound on his thigh. Porthos had passed him a small bowl mixed with warm water and alcohol and now he was wiping the blood away from the soft skin and cleaned the wound as best as he could.

Athos moaned softly when Tréville put the cloth on the wound and wiped away more blood, but didn't wake up. For a moment Tréville wished his officer would open his eyes, but he told himself it was better, that Athos' body had finally given into oblivion. Stitching the wounds on his leg and arm would be unpleasant and cause his soldier more pain.

"He never does things easily." Tréville commented dryly.

"Do you need Porthos' help?" Lemay asked, when he finally started to remove the bandage on Athos' arm in order to inspect the damage the main gauche had caused closer.

"I think I will manage." Tréville nodded towards Porthos with his chin to tell him that he should help the doctor.

"What can I do, doctor?" Porthos asked, concern written all over his face, while he stepped next to Lemay.

"I need to have a closer look at the wound, I need to inspect how deep it is, but it is still bleeding and it's not good sign, that Athos is losing so much blood. So I need to check with my fingers and instruments the wound. I won't have my hands free, to put pressure again on the wound. So when I remove my fingers, you need to press this cloth as hard as you can down on the wound, to stop the bleeding."

"I can do this." Porthos nodded.

As soon as Lemay removed the tourniquet from Athos' upper right arm. The blood started to flow out of the wound again.

"Can you wipe the blood away?" Lemay asked Porthos.

Tréville felt the need to step next to them and look how bad the wound was, but he concentrated on his task. He had no idea why but he managed to put the thin thread in the top of the needle at once. He had imagined that his hands and fingers would be trembling by now, but he stayed calm. Athos needed him more than ever now and without hesitating he drew the needle into Athos' skin and closed the still bleeding wound. Athos did not react the first time he drew the needle in his skin.

In the meantime Lemay pocked with his delicate long fingers in Athos' arm. Feeling around for any possible damage. It was at this moment when Athos' screamed out loud, gasping for air, he sluggishly opened his eyes and blinked confused at the ceiling of the infirmary.

He felt the immense pain in his arm and leg.

 _What's going on? Where am I? Why is my arm hurting so much … oh … the blade … the assault … Aramis …_

"Aramis …"

Athos gasped and put his left hand towards his right arm, in order to work out where the pain was coming from. Porthos grabbed it gently and put it down on the mattress. Not letting go of his friend's hand, which was slightly trembling and much too cold.

"Easy, Athos." He tried to sooth him, but Athos only moaned louder, when he felt an itching pain in his leg.

"Sorry, Athos. That was me. I needed to close the wound on your thigh." Tréville apologised with a gentle voice.

"Can we give him something, doctor? He's obviously in a great deal of pain." Porthos asked.

Lemay sighed and removed his fingers from the inside of Athos' arm. Giving Porthos a sign to now press down on the cloth.

Athos screamed again, tears were welling up in his eyes.

"Please, stop it. It …" He gasped for air.

"Easy, Athos." Porthos still put pressure on the cloth, but with his other hand he pressed Athos' cold fingers of his left hand. "Can you feel my hand in yours?"

Athos simply nodded. He moved his head, so that he could see Porthos through a still blurred vision.

"Make it … stop …" He gasped again.

"Next time you feel the pain, press my hand as hard as you can. Do you understand me?" Porthos asked and Athos only nodded groggily.

Tréville had started to put the needle again through Athos' skin and Porthos could feel the strong grip, pressing his fingers, he felt the pain on his hand, but he ignored it.

"That's it, Athos." He encouraged his friend, while his eyes were now searching Lemay's. "Can't you give him something?" Porthos whispered again.

Lemay wiped the blood from both of his hands, then he moved into the vision of Athos and gently pressed his patient's right shoulder.

"I need to examine your arm, before I can stitch it, Athos. The wound is deep, that's why it hurts so much." He softly explained.

Athos didn't seem to listen. His eyes wandered away from the doctor over to Tréville. The Captain felt Athos' gaze on him and looked up from his work. He had just set the last stitch and secured the thread. Now he left his place and came nearer to Athos' face.

"What is it?" He softly asked, whispering in his Lieutenant's left ear.

"Make it stop." Athos murmured, locking eyes with his Captain.

"We will, promise." He whispered and gently stroked his soldier's head. Athos leaned gratefully into his touch. Then Tréville looked over to Lemay and said: "Doctor!"

Lemay put the palm of his hand on Athos' chest and felt the heartbeat of his patient. It was pulsing erratically and once again much too fast under his palm.

Lemay shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I have laudanum with me, but if I give it to him now, it might kill him. His heart is beating much too fast and irregularly. It's caused by the blood loss and the shock his body is in."

"Do you have anything else?" Porthos asked, shocked by the words of the doctor.

"We can try another draught with herbs which I prepared earlier. They should make him sleep."

"Give it to him, now." Tréville ordered, still looking into Athos' green eyes which were pleading with him for help.

Lemay stepped back from the bed, noticed the still untouched draught he had prepared earlier in case it was needed and returned to the bed.

"Help him to drink the entire content." He pressed the cup into Tréville's hand. "I need to move on with the wound on his arm"

He explained and gestured to Porthos to take the cloth away, so that he could have a second look. Tréville gently put his other hand now under Athos' head, lifted it softly and pressed the cup at his officer's mouth.

"Here, drink." He encouraged his officer.

But Athos' turned his head away and Tréville didn't want to force him.

"Come on son, just a few sips, it will help you to sleep, to ease the pain."

"I can't …" Athos panted.

Tréville put the cup away. He thought about a way to encourage Athos to drink, but at this moment Lemay was feeling a second time now with a sharp long metallic instrument into the wound in Athos' arm.

Athos screamed again loudly, he felt dizzy and exhausted, he closed his eyes and let his head dropped back on the pillow.

"He's passed out." Tréville informed the others. He spared his angry glare for later, knowing that Lemay was helping and not hurting Athos on purpose.

"It's better that way." Lemay stated firmly. "Porthos can you wipe here, yes, now I have a better look. Ahh … there it is. I can finally pull it out." Lemay said to himself, while removing a small bloody piece of fabric out of Athos' wound. Then he turned to Porthos. "Alright, put again pressure on it."

Lemay removed his hands from Athos' arm, laid the bloody scrap of cloth on the small table next to Athos' bed and wiped his hands again on a cloth.

"What's that?" Porthos asked curiously.

"I needed to check the wound for any soil or dirt. The dagger or whatever caused this wound was pushed through Athos shirt and some scrap of cloth ended in the wound. I felt it the first time, but I needed my instrument to get hold of it. We need to close the wound."

Porthos nodded understandingly.

"If you had left it in there, the wound would have become infected?" Porthos asked.

"Infection is always a risk for both of his wounds. We need to clean and close the wounds and then we need to observe them closely." Lemay sighed. "I need thread and needle now. I will stitch the wound. It's deep. He was very lucky if the knife had hit a vein he would have been dead by now."

Tréville nodded. He had seen many arm wounds caused by swords that had ended fatally.

"Will he be able to use his arm again?" Porthos asked, barely audible. "Aramis feared …"

"To be honest, I don't know, right now. The blade could have cut important nerves, then he won't feel anything in his arm and hand and won't be able to use it again. This would be the worst case. Time will tell."

Lemay reached for needle and thread and started to close the wound with some quick moves. Then he fetched a mixture of alcohol and water, wiped it over the closed wound, several times and put some of the honey salve he had with him over the injured spot. Afterwards he asked for a bandage, which Tréville passed him.

Porthos was observing each of Lemay's moves, fighting with his own emotions and trying to figure out, if the doctor and Aramis would be right.

Tréville stayed silent for a while, then he asked:

"But there is a chance that he will be able to use his arm again."

"Of course!" Lemay said slowly, wrapping the bandage in several thick layers over Athos' upper arm and putting a knot at the end. "The knife could only have torn a muscle then with a lot of practise he will be able to use his arm and hand in several weeks again or he was very lucky and the blade hasn't hurt any muscle at all."

"So we simply need to pray that he will be able to use his arm again?" Porthos asked cautiously.

Lemay turned towards Tréville ignoring Porthos question at first.

"Let me have a look at his thigh."

The doctor walked around the bed and stepped next to Tréville. There he checked if the stitches would really hold. He nodded approvingly towards Tréville. Then he wiped the serious wound with the same mixture of water and alcohol, put a new layer of honey salve on top of the stitches and asked Tréville to bind the thigh with a bandage as well.

Lemay observed Athos' sleeping form closely, the white parlor of his skin, the sweat on his forehead and the slow rising and falling of his chest, after his eyes had rested for over a minute on his patient he sighed and looked first to Porthos, next to Tréville:

"Porthos, Captain, I am afraid, I can't tell you right now. Before we can focus on Athos' arm we should pray that he survives this second attack. He has lost a lot of blood. His body is in shock. We will need to warm him up and make sure that he gets enough warm broth during the day. Each time he wakes give him broth to drink."

Tréville nodded, while Porthos turned his back to the doctor fighting with his emotions, no one should see right now.

"We will make sure of it, doctor." Tréville stated firmly.

Lemay smiled and returned to Athos' upper body again putting his palm on Athos' chest and feeling for the soldier's heartbeat.

"His heartbeat is still fast, but it's beating steady again. I'm afraid I cannot stay. There are other patients I have to visit." Lemay said. Then he turned to Tréville: "Clean him up, make sure that his body starts to warm up with blankets and maybe hot stones. I will come back tonight." He told them.

Then he went over to Aramis and checked on him a last time.

"Wake him at least every two hours. The concussion could be mild, but nevertheless he will feel his aching head and he will be dizzy for a while or even sick. Stop him from moving around. I know, when he's awake he will try to take care of Athos, but simply keep an eye on him and if he gets worse, call me at once. That goes for the both of them."

Lemay then packed his stuff, said his goodbyes and left the infirmary. Silence settled between the awake men, only disturbed by the soft breathing of Aramis and the irregular breathing of Athos. Porthos turned to Tréville his eyes glistening from unshed tears. Slowly very slowly he moved over to Athos' side and sat down on the chair Aramis had occupied earlier.

"The doctor believes he won't survive." He whispered more to himself. "How … what happened … when I left …"

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 ** _Many thanks to my lovely beta Beth xx Kira_**


	32. Chapter 32

**_Hey there,_**

 ** _as promised here is the next chapter._**

 ** _I had to put in a small part with Gauthier, which was still missing, so forgive me any errors in this part and if you find medical mistakes please forgive me I am not a doctor, nurse or have studied medicine!_**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading & reviewing!_**

* * *

Barbara:

"Another excellent chapter but so full of pain."

Thank you so much! I am sorry about the pain, not sure if it will be better in this and the following chapters xx Kira

* * *

Beeblegirl:

"Oh my poor Athos. Is he ever going to have any luck and get well again? Who is trying to kill him and why?"

Thank you so much! Hmm … will Athos be alright again … not sure … right now he is fighting for his life.

Who is behind the assault against him. I promise you more and more puzzle pieces will come, but it will take a while. But Tréville is about to start his investigation. xx Kira

* * *

Debbie:

"Lemay should have been a Musketeer with his brilliant skills of deduction figuring out what happened to Athos again. LOL!  
But poor Athos, he really is in a bad way."

Thank you so much! Lol Lemay being a Musketeer, watch out d'Artagnan. There would be some interesting scene when they both are trying to win Constance heart ;-)

But as a doctor you have to investigate, so it is natural that he looks around and notices all the blood on the floor.

Yep, poor Athos, so sorry, he is in a bad way and he is still not out of the woods. xx Kira

* * *

 ** _Enjoy this extra-long, chapter. I considered to part it in two, but they belong together and I didn't want to let the d'Artagnan fans wait for him another chapter ..._**

* * *

 **Chapter 32**

Porthos gulped and stayed silent again. His brown eyes were watching the soft rise and fall of Athos' chest. An indication that his brother was still alive. Carefully he lifted his hand and put his palm on Athos' cold left hand.

"He's still very cold and trembling." Porthos said. He heard his own voice more in the distance.

"He will pull through, Porthos. I will make sure of it." Tréville stated firmly. "We need to change his shirt and braies, clean his skin from the dried blood. Can you go to Serge and ask for fresh warm broth and organise him new clothes, so we can free him from his bloody ones?"

Tréville asked Porthos, knowing very well that the streetfighter needed to do something to distract himself.

"I will, Captain. And I will fetch Athos' thick blanket from his room. Maybe the familiar cloth will help him to recover sooner and the fabric is better than those sheets."

He pressed Athos' hand gently then he stood up.

"But before I leave we should at least put some sheets over his body."

"You are right Porthos." Tréville answered.

They both wrapped Athos' body in some white linens, leaving the injured leg and arm free, so that they could clean these spots easier. Then Tréville put a bowl with still warm water on the small table, next to Athos' head, sat down on the chair next to him, and dipped a cloth into the water.

"I will start with cleaning his arm and hand, then I will move over to his thigh." He told Porthos, who only nodded, with a last glance at his sleeping brother, who was still shivering as he left the infirmary.

"I will be back as soon as I can." He told Tréville.

Tréville gently laid the wet washcloth on Athos' arm - which rested next to Athos' upper body on the mattress - under the thick wide bandage and started softly to remove the dried blood. Athos' whimpered softly, but he didn't wake up.

"I'm sorry, I know it will hurt you further." Tréville quietly replied, while continuing his task.

From time to time he cleaned the washcloth in the bowl, the water now shimmered rose, then he gently removed the next blood traces on Athos' arm. Finally he reached his hand.

 _Why your right arm, Athos? Was it the only way to protect you?_

Tréville stared at the long fingers, the big palm, carrying calluses from using it as his main sword hand. How many times had he admired Athos' sword fighting when he was watching his men from the balcony, while Athos was training other men or recruits. He was the best of them all. Even better than himself. His officer was an excellent sword master.

 _If he can't use his arm and hand any longer it will destroy him. I know him. Of course he has another arm and he fights with left nearly as good as with right, but … He will tell me that he won't be able to be a Musketeer anymore. There has to be a way ..._

Angrily Tréville tried to chase his thoughts away.

 _I will make sure of it that you will survive and that you will be able to use your right arm again._

Tréville promised himself. Gently the Captain put Athos' hand in his and started to clean it with his other hand. Distracted he looked over to Aramis when the marksman started to moan out loud.

 _I think it's a good sign, that Aramis is waking up again. Then the concussion is not that bad and I'm glad that he didn't need stitches too. It's enough that Athos needed them._

A soft touch on his hand irritated him and he looked down, but he couldn't see anything.

 _I am starting to feel and see ghosts._

Aramis moaned a second time and he turned his head again towards the medic.

"Are you awake, Aramis?" He whispered softly.

No answer.

 _I need to get up and check on him as well. I wish Porthos would be back by now. What's that ..._

Tréville looked down again, when he felt another touch on his hand, this time stronger. He couldn't hold the breath of relief back, when he realised what had caused the touch. Athos' fingers were moving. This time he could see them. They tried to find a more firm or comfortable hold in Tréville's hand.

Carefully Tréville pressed his officer's fingers back and felt Athos' squeezing weakly again. Tréville looked up to Athos' face, but the young man's eyes were still closed.

"You will be alright again, Athos." Tréville told him. "You are safe now. No one will harm you any more."

He stood up, not letting go of Athos' hand and with his other hand he gently stroked over Athos' hair, removing with his fingers a strand on his forehead. He felt a layer of cold sweat on his cool skin.

"Are you awake, son?" He softly whispered, now bending more over Athos' face and speaking in his ear.

Athos did not answer him. He kept his eyes shut and he didn't press Tréville's hand again, but another whimper escaped from his mouth.

"I know it hurts but fight Athos, fight, I need you!" He whispered into his officer's ear and Athos stopped whimpering.

"It's good. Encourage him further. It will help him to pull through." Aramis softly spoke from the other bed and Tréville turned his head around.

"Do you feel better?" He asked Aramis, continuing to stroke over Athos' hair.

"I had a much worse concussion before, I will live." Aramis answered quietly, fighting with himself against becoming sick. "How bad?" He then asked, while gasping for air.

"Doctor Lemay has stitched his arm and I have re-stitched his thigh. Right now we have to clean him up, change his clothes and then make sure that he keeps warm and has enough broth to drink."

"Has he lost a lot of blood?" Aramis asked.

"The doctor thinks so and when I look on the floor, I would say yes. We need to clean it." He shuddered.

"So Athos will be cold and very sleepy for a while. We need to wake him to give him the broth." Aramis stated firmly.

"The doctor fears that he won't make it." Tréville added quietly.

Aramis turned his head towards his Captain. He groaned out loud when a new wave of dizziness hit his head and he cursed himself for his stupidity, but he needed to look into the Captain's eyes.

"As long as we give him enough broth, warm him and make sure that his wounds don't become infected he will pull through." Aramis tried to smile.

"D'Art … agn …" Athos mumbled and both men looked towards the still sleeping Lieutenant.

"Is he waking up?" Aramis asked.

"No." Tréville gently pressed Athos' right hand. "He is speaking in his dream. He's probably still concerned about d'Artagnan's welfare."

"Why isn't he here yet?"

Aramis asked knowing that he had completely forgotten about their youngest member and wondering what took him so long. It was not like him to stay behind, when he knew that this mentor wasn't well and in possible danger.

"He sprained his ankle." Tréville sighed."

"How did he manage that?" Aramis asked, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in his head.

"Oh, you won't believe me."

Tréville silently chuckled, while feeling with his palm now for Athos' heartbeat, which was still beating very fast. He sighed and then turned towards Aramis.

"He had the idea to climb on a tree to have a better look at the château we were observing. But he didn't expect to find an owl sitting in this tree. Well the owl told him to leave and our young Gascon tumbled down the tree. He was very lucky. He could have broken his neck …" Tréville shook his head.

"That sounds like our boy." Aramis grinned.

"Stable … duty …" Athos slurred. Tréville turned all his attention back towards his Lieutenant.

"Oh yes, Athos … that would be a very good idea." Aramis laughed from behind.

"Don't … tell … him …" Athos mumbled.

"What?" Aramis asked.

"Main gauche … you … mustn't … tell him … ples …" Athos slurred.

"We won't, if you don't want us to do it."

Aramis quietly promised, understanding why Athos asked him and in the same time wondered once again how his friend could think of someone else while he was suffering.

"How do you feel?" Tréville asked quietly, while he was watching how Athos who was struggling to open his eyes.

"What …?" Athos slurred confusedly, while slowly reaching with his left hand for the bandage on his right arm.

"Stop that." Tréville told him and stopped Athos' hand and pressed it gently back on the mattress.

"Hurts …" Athos gasped and moaned out loud again, while his hands and feet still trembled slightly. "So cold …" He slurred, he blinked several times and closed then his eyes again.

"Where does it hurt you, Athos?" Tréville softly asked.

"Arghh …" Athos screamed and lifted his left hand again, which he dropped sluggishly on his chest. He pressed his palm on the intense pain. "Here …" He mumbled. He half opened his eyes and looked confused at his Captain.

"What … happened …?" He gasped, then his breathing changed and Tréville noticed that he was gasping for more and more air. Athos screamed again. He tried to curl up on his left sight, pressing his hand deeper on his chest.

A layer of sweat was appearing on his face. With his green eyes he searched the help of his Captain.

"Make it stop … please … hurts …" He slurred again.

"Where does it hurt you?"

Aramis asked from the distance, while forcing himself to sit up on his bed, then he put his legs over the corner of it, stood up, paused for a moment as the whole infirmary was spinning in front of him and slowly made his way over to Athos' bed. Tréville feared that Aramis would collapse on the floor, but the medic somehow managed to keep himself upright, while still swaying. When he reached Athos' bed he put both of his hands on the bed and waited until his head stopped spinning.

"For God's sake Aramis, sit down." Tréville told him.

"Chest …" Athos mumbled in that moment.

Aramis carefully took several more steps forward until he was standing next to Athos' head on his left side, then he put his palm on Athos' chest and felt for his heartbeat.

"His heart is racing in his chest … he has difficulty breathing. It's the damn shock. Help me to roll him for a moment on his left side."

Tréville followed Aramis' suggestion. Making sure, that his right arm was not hurting Athos, when he gently rolled him onto his side, while Aramis helped with Athos' legs.

Athos had closed his eyes again, but continued to moan and pressed his hand on his chest. Aramis gently removed his left hand and held it in his. He could feel with his fingers his friend's slow pulse while touching his wrist.

"Easy Athos. You will be better." Then he turned again to Tréville. "It's the shock caused by the blood loss, Captain. We need to elevate his feet. I don't know why the doctor didn't do it? I have used it on soldiers who were shock after being wounded before. It helped them."

Tréville moved away from the bed, searched for some more pillows and gently elevated both of Athos' feet while putting the pillows under it. In the meantime Athos' gasping had eased and he breathed more evenly.

"That's it." Aramis encouraged him.

"It still hurts … mis." Athos slurred.

"Yes, I know. It will be better in several minutes. You will notice that the pain in your chest will go away."

"Promise." Athos opened his bloodshot now reddish eyes, tears were running down over his face.

"Promise." Aramis gently wiped them with his thumb away, while still holding Athos' left hand.

At that moment the door opened and Porthos arrived with fresh clothes and Athos' warm blanket, another Musketeer was carrying a bowl of broth.

"Athos, you will be better soon, you need to drink that warm broth and then we will tuck you in your warm blanket." Aramis softly explained.

The sick Musketeer had closed his eyes again. His head lolled and he tried to move on his back again. Tréville wanted to stop him, but Aramis shook his head.

"It's alright Captain. His breathing is more even now. It's better we have him in this position, but I think we need to elevate his legs even a little higher."

"How?" Porthos asked.

"With more pillows and then we need to start wrapping him in several more sheets and his blanket. We need to get him warm."

Aramis swayed dangerously and if it hadn't been for Porthos, who reached him with quick steps and held him at his shoulders, he would have ended on the floor next to Athos' bed.

"Easy." Porthos mumbled. Then he helped Aramis onto a nearby chair. "Rest here, tell us what we should do and then I will bring you back to bed afterwards."

"Thank you, _mon ami_." Aramis whispered grateful.

The other Musketeer looked at the Captain who gave him a nodd the sign to dismiss and he left, quietly closing the door behind him.

"We still need to clean Athos' thigh and change his clothes." Tréville told them.

"Start with the broth, Captain. Right now Athos is awake, but he's already drifting back to unconsciousness. Better to have some warm salty broth in his body."

"You are right, Aramis." Tréville poured some of the broth into a cup and then seated himself back on the chair.

"Athos, are you still awake. Come on open your eyes and look at me."

Athos forced himself to move his head to the right side and look at his Captain.

"I ... am ... dying …" Athos slurred.

"No, you will live, Athos." Treville said with his confident voice, while smiling at him. "I know you are in a great deal of pain right now, but you will be better. Here, you need to drink this."

"I can't …" Athos mumbled.

"Yes, you can." Aramis encouraged him from the other side. "You need it to heal. Let the Captain help you."

"I'm so … tired …" Athos slurred, his eyes closed again.

Tréville stood up again with the cup in his hands and moved nearer to Athos' head. He gently lifted the patient's head, while with his other hand he pressed the cup to his lips.

"All you need to do is to open your mouth and swallow." Tréville told him.

Athos listened to him, he opened his mouth and the Captain slowly let some warm broth run into Athos' mouth."

Athos gulped several times until the cup was empty. Then he turned his head away, whimpered a last time and fell back into another exhausted sleep. In the meantime Porthos had started to clean Athos' thigh with some fresh warm water and a washcloth. He had just finished when Athos became unconscious again.

"It's better that he's out for the next things that we need to do." He mumbled.

"Indeed." Aramis agreed. He felt again Athos' heartbeat with his palm and sighed relieved.

"His heartbeat has slowed down a little, the elevated feet are helping."

"What now?" Tréville looked over to Aramis.

"Now we change his shirt and braies. Sorry, I can't help you."

"No worries, we will manage." Porthos told him.

He went next to Athos' head, then he lifted his whole upper body with both of his arms, while Tréville gently put the new shirt over Athos' head.

"First his left arm." Porthos advised. Tréville nodded and then he pulled the bandaged arm gently into the right shirtsleeve. Athos moaned, but didn't wake.

Porthos gently helped Athos' back down on the mattress.

"Do you have a scarf?" Aramis asked.

"Yes, I have brought two." Porthos nodded.

"Use one to keep his neck warm and wrap the other around Athos' injured arm and fix it behind his neck. Just like a sling and after that put his arm on his chest. The scarf will take the pressure from his injured arm and it will hurt him less." Aramis advised.

Tréville followed Aramis' words and after Athos' right arm was resting on his chest he turned to Pothos.

"Now the braies."

"Best we cut the old." Porthos mumbled.

In the next few minutes they helped Athos out of his old and into his new braies, then they fetched several light sheets, which they put over Athos' body. Porthos finally wrapped his friend in his warm blue blanket and smoothed down the blanket, making sure that his elevated feet were tucked in as well, so that they could warm up while Tréville wiped Athos' forehead with a fresh washcloth and removed the cold sweat off his face. After that he stepped back and put the washcloth back in the bowl.

The three Musketeers all looked down on their ailing fourth, who was now breathing more evenly and had stopped moaning and whimpering.

"What a day?" Tréville mumbled, while sitting exhaustedly back on his chair his pale blue eyes still resting on Athos' too white face.

"Come, Aramis, I'll take you over to your bed." Porthos wanted to help his friend up, who protested.

"No, better bring the bed over here. Then I can sleep next to Athos and can reach him with my hand, if he starts to get restless."

Porthos nodded and walked over to the bed and carried the small bed next to Athos' left side, while Aramis stood up slowly and removed the chair. Gratefully he laid down again.

"Do you really think he will pull through?" Porthos asked when silence had finally settled in the infirmary.

"He's strong Porthos and he has both of you with him. You will make him fight." Tréville searched Porthos' brown eyes. "Is d'Artagnan already back?" He then asked.

"No. Maybe Henri decided to stop for a while. I would have …" Porthos said.

"Make sure that we hide the main gauche." Aramis mumbled from his bed, his eyes closed, his right hand, resting on top of the blanket on Athos' left arm, to give his brother some comfort.

Porthos nodded, looked for it and then picked it up from the floor.

"There's still Athos' blood on it." Porthos shook angrily his head. "If I had only been faster …"

His gaze wandered over the whole floor. Without waiting for an answer from Tréville or Aramis, Porthos busied himself with fetching another wet cloth, then he knelt down on the floor and started to remove Athos' blood traces.

"Porthos," Aramis softly said, "someone else can do that."

"No, it's better we clean up everything, now. When I've finished here I will go and have a look if d'Artagnan has arrived."

Tréville slowly stood up from his chair.

"I'm sorry I have to leave. I need to report to the King. Has Athos revealed anything about the letter yet?" He asked.

"He doesn't know anything about it. He was only asked to bring it back to the palace, it was addressed to the Queen." Aramis said barely audible. He felt his eyes drooping and yawned aloud.

"Sleep, Aramis, I will be back as soon as I can." Then he bent down over Athos' face and whispered in his ear.

"Fight this. I'm counting on you." He gently put his hand on Athos' trembling shoulder and pressed it softly.

Captain Tréville felt the desire to stay, but he needed answers, he would confront the Cardinal. With a loud sigh he removed his hand and stepped back from Athos' bed.

"Stay with them Porthos." Tréville said to the streetfighter. "And make sure that he stays alive." Then the Captain left the infirmary.

Exhausted, Porthos sat down on a chair.

 _Make sure that he stays alive. Easier said than done. What a nightmare. I thought and hoped you would be better by now Athos … you fought last night … you will need to fight again now …_

Porthos' eyes wandered over to his two sleeping friends. Then he put the dirty clothes, he still held in his hands away, hiding the main gauche in them and sat on the chair which Tréville just had left.

 **XXXXX**

Tréville felt the warm wind in his face, when he stepped out of the infirmary. Several times he breathed in deeply. The fresh air felt good in his lungs. The smell of blood, herbs and honey was still hanging in his nose. For a short time he closed his eyes and tried to get rid of the picture that was forming in front of his mind. Athos' pale face, gasping for air and screaming loud.

 _How could this happen? I ordered more guards to protect him, before I left with d'Artagnan. How could Juan come into the garrison and even more important, how could he enter the infirmary? Who has slept? Do we have a traitor in our own midst?_

Robert a young recruit walked over the courtyard and Tréville shouted to him to come over.

"What can I do for you Captain?" The young blond man asked.

"Do you know where they have brought the dead body?"

"Yes, Pierre and François are just loading him onto a wagon. They want to bring him to the nearest church. They are over there." He pointed with his finger in the direction near the archgate, where a wagon and a horse were standing.

Tréville walked over to his Musketeers.

"How could this happen that this man entered our garrison?" He asked the two Musketeers aloud while not hiding the anger in his voice any longer.

"How is Athos?" Pierre hurried to ask, while François looked embarrassed at the ground.

"Not good." Tréville said. "Now, can you tell me, why on earth he was able to attack Athos?" He shouted angrily.

"This man …" François pointed at the dead body of Juan "... came to the gates of the garrison shortly after Doctor Lemay had left earlier."

"And?" Tréville asked impatiently.

"He showed me a letter and said that the doctor had sent him to fetch a medical instrument he had forgotten."

 _He must have watched the garrison before he entered it._ Tréville thought bitterly. _Clever bastard, he knew that Athos was injured so he came up with a plan. Risky, but he nearly had success. Unbelievable ..._

"Did you read the letter?" Tréville asked.

"No." Pierre now mumbled. "The handwriting was so indecipherable that we let him pass. We thought the doctor had written it in a hurry and the man said that he needed it for another patient of his, who was in a really bad shape."

"So, you didn't suggest him to wait here while you would fetch it for him instead, but simply showed him the way to the infirmary?" Tréville groaned out loud.

"We are sorry … we had no idea … he wasn't wearing any weapons."

"Oh yes, he was …" Tréville shouted. "Now make haste and get out of my sight, pray that Athos will survive or you will both lose your commission. I can't use men who are not able to follow orders."

Pierre and François nodded both ashamed and hurried away. Tréville looked behind them and shook his head in disbelief.

 _Unbelievable … I order them to protect Athos … and what do they do? They send a dangerous man into the infirmary without checking him properly … and now Athos is wounded even more severely and Aramis is fighting with a concussion ..._

Tréville concentrated on the dead corpse in front of him. He searched the clothes of the dead Spaniard and found another main gauche, a dagger, which was hidden in his boot and an expensive golden pocket watch, but nothing else. No note, nothing which gave him any information about the man.

 _When d'Artagnan ever will find out that he used his main gauge at least I can tell him, he had more than one dagger with him. He would have used one of those weapons instead._ Tréville sighed.

At that moment Gauthier walked by and stopped next to Tréville. He had had palace guard the whole morning and had just returned from his duty.

"I just heard about it, Captain. There was another attack? How are Athos and Aramis?"

"Athos is fighting for his life right now and Aramis has a concussion."

"Good grief … how could this happen … is this the perpetrator?"

"Yes, Porthos killed him."

"I have never seen him before." Gauthier shook his head.

"Can you check to see if his horse is standing somewhere near to the garrison?" Tréville asked.

"I will have a look and if I find it and a saddlebag I will bring it here."

"Thank you, Gauthier."

"Ah, Captain, before I forgot to report to you. There was an interesting incident at the palace this morning I need to tell you about.

"Can't it wait, Gauthier?"

"No, the King has asked about where you are and I told him what has happened to Athos and that you left for _Château de Fontainebleau_. He asked to see you as soon as you returned."

"Thank you Gauthier."

"And there is even more."

"What?"

"The Queen has received a missive, which had blood on it. It was really an odd scene. King Louis ordered her not to open it …" With several words Gauthier told Tréville everything what had happened and what he had witnessed, including the reaction of the Cardinal.

"The Cardinal seemed shocked about the fact that it was Athos, who left delivering the letter?" Tréville asked again, trying to figure out if he had understood correctly.

"I could be wrong, Captain, but he looked shocked and kind of unprepared, such as he had expected something else."

"Anything else."

"Yes, King Louis was very upset, that the Cardinal ordered you to send a Musketeer for a simple invitation and Queen Anne sends her regards and wishes Athos a speedy recovery." Gauthier added.

"Thank you, that were really important news. I wish you would have stood guard here instead today, Athos and Aramis wouldn't have been harmed."

"I am not sure, Captain, but thank you. I will go and look for the horse now." Gauthier excused himself.

 _It's about time that I talk with the Cardinal. There is more to this missive. He knows more … as usual … first Savoy … now this … I am so tired of all his secrets and lies. Tricking and cheating always for the greater good of France - in his eyes. But this time he has overstepped a border._

Tréville wanted to move on to the kitchen to speak with Serge, when he heard the sound of horse hooves. Several seconds later Henri and d'Artagnan crossed the archway of the garrison.

Tréville could see a layer of sweat on d'Artagnan's pale face. Even riding slowly had hurt the young Gascon.

"How is Athos?" Was the first question the young man shouted, while Henri helped him down from the horse.

"Not good." Tréville answered honestly.

He wanted to tell d'Artagnan to wait, but the young man didn't listen anymore. Concentrating without stumbling and falling onto the ground of the courtyard, he limped over to the infirmary as fast as he could.

His teeth gritted, his eyes directed at the door. Fearing the worst.

"D'Artagnan, wait."

Tréville shouted, but his order was unheard. The tired Captain looked at Henri, then he shrugged and followed his youngest Musketeer. Knowing that the next minutes wouldn't be easy for the young man, but his instinct told him that d'Artagnan needed to see his mentor.

 _I can't protect him from this. He feared all the way back that they would go after Athos and he was right, he will blame himself. Thank God Porthos has removed the main gauche._

D'Artagnan pushed the door to the infirmary open and was greeted by Porthos strong arms. The streetfighter had heard the voices outside of the infirmary. Tréville's loud barking command that d'Artagnan should wait and now he prepared himself to stop d'Artagnan. He wished he could spare the young man the miserable sight of their sick brother, but he knew that d'Artagnan wouldn't be stopped.

D'Artagnan tried to free himself from Porthos' strong embrace, but the strong arms, held him trapped in a firm embrace. Porthos pressed his friend's face on his chest and whispered in his ear.

"He'll pull through."

"Let me lose."

D'Artagnan protested quietly, well aware that it would be better not to shout in the infirmary, while trying to have a better look at the bed where Athos was lying unresponsive.

"Shhh …"

Porthos tried to calm him. D'Artagnan stopped his struggle and looked with tears in his eyes into Porthos' face.

"Is he …" He gasped and put both of his hands on his mouth.

"He's asleep for now." Porthos softly mumbled in his friend's ear.

"What happened?"

D'Artagnan asked, while Porthos finally opened his arms again and d'Artagnan stepped further towards the bed but then paused and simply stared at Athos' body. His mentor was wrapped and tucked into several blankets. His feet were oddly elevated. All he could see was Athos' pale face, which was turned towards Aramis, who was lying next to him. Around the medic's head he could see a white bandage, his hand was resting on Athos' chest and he could see the gentle rise and fall of it.

"Thank God he's alive." D'Artagnan whispered. Now the tears were running down over his cheeks. "He looks so pale. What has happened to him and Aramis?" He turned around and looked confused at Porthos.

"I will tell you. Come with me. Athos needs to rest and you need something to eat." Tréville had stepped silently next to d'Artagnan and now put a hand on his shoulder.

"Can I …"

"Come here." Aramis quietly told d'Artagnan and the young man limped over to Aramis' bed, stepping into the small spot between both beds and looking at Aramis' bandage on his head.

"He's sleeping, but from time to time he wakes up. Speak to him. It will help him to heal, to fight." Aramis encouraged the young man.

For a moment d'Artagnan hesitated, but then he laid his hand on his friend's upper body, over the blanket, stroked over the side, where his left shoulder was and whispered:

"Athos, can you hear me?" A soft moan was the only answer he received.

"Come." Tréville stepped next to him again. He laid one hand again on d'Artagnan's shoulder. "He needs to rest. He will wake up later. I'm sure. Then you can talk to him."

"Get better, Athos."

D'Artagnan bent over his sleeping friend and whispered the words into his ear then he turned towards the Captain and followed him outside, limping beside him. Deeply shaken: the picture of Athos' closed eyes and pale, sweaty face, etched in his mind.

Outside the infirmary Tréville ordered d'Artagnan to put his arm around his shoulder so that he wouldn't need to put any further pressure on his right ankle. Reluctantly d'Artagnan followed his Captain's order then he asked:

"What's wrong with Athos. He looks worse than the last time I saw him? And Aramis …?" D'Artagnan asked concerned.

"I will tell you. Come lean on me."

Tréville helped d'Artagnan over to the canteen where they both sat down.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _Special thanks to my lovely beta Beth xx Kira_**


	33. Chapter 33

**_Thank you so much for reading and your reviews for ch 32._**

* * *

 ** _Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Treville's ready to make heads roll after he found out how Athos got hurt again. Trying to hide d'Art's main gauche too so the lad doesn't know it was used on Athos. Then finally d'Art gets there only to be stopped by Porthos and no wonder the Gascon thought the worse when the large man didn't let him go to Athos right away. Then Aramis tells d'Art to talk to Athos and in the next breath Treville's dragging the lad away. Poor confused d'Art. But I'm rooting for Athos to make a complete recovery. And of course Richelieu knows more than he's saying. He's a sneaky SOB."_**

 ** _Thank you so much Debbie. Oh, I agree with you Richelieu will have to deal with a more than angry Tréville. About the main gauche it wouldn't help d'Artagnan to know …_**

 ** _Tréville tried to stop d'Artagnan in order to talk to him first, but you know our young Gascon even with a hurt ankle he cannot be stopped …_**

 ** _Athos is still not out of the woods yet …_**

 ** _I wonder what Richelieu has to do with all of this … lol … ;-) xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Guest:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Giggling for the moment that Athos come outta the fog to say stable duty for a week .. So glad Treville had Porthos remove d'Artagnan main gauche removed before he sees.. I fear his reaction when Treville tells him what has had happened and his knife was used"_**

 ** _Thank you! Oh yes some humor was needed at this part. Glad you had to laugh about that part. The main gauche … will d'Artagnan find out that Juan used his weapon …_**

 ** _Maybe Tréville waits with telling the young Gascon about it. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Excellent chapter again. Hope Athos gets better quickly and the Cardinal gets into trouble."_**

 ** _Thank you, Barbara. I fear that Athos is still not yet out of the woods …_**

 ** _First Tréville must find the Cardinal … this will be the more complicated part … lol xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Here is the next chapter._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 33**

Porthos enjoyed the silence which had now settled in the infirmary. No sound, no noise, meant that there was no trouble, no pain, no emergency. But the silence was only temporary and he found out about it sooner than he had wanted to.

It started with a loud scream which escaped Athos' mouth. His sick friend had moved during his sleep, trying to find a new position, but by shifting his leg another wave of pain had washed over his whole body.

Porthos jumped at once and carefully bent over Athos' face. The swordsman fought to open his eyes. After several seconds he won the fight and he blinked heavily while his eyes tried to adjust to the light of the sun, which was still shining into the infirmary.

"Hello there." Porthos greeted his friend with a smile on his lips.

Athos looked confused at him.

"Where … am … I …?" He gasped, while obviously having problems with his breathing.

Aramis who had awoken next to him, gently laid his palm on Athos' chest over the blanket and whispered now in his ear.

"In the infirmary, _mon ami_."

Athos didn't answer. His eyes searched the ceiling. Porthos stood up, prepared another cup of warm broth and returned back to Athos' other side.

"You need to drink this." He told him and without waiting for an answer, he gently lifted his brother's head and put the cup to his lips."

"No …" Athos mumbled, while his eyes started to droop again, but Porthos ignored his protest.

"Come on, you can do this. Only a few sips. Open your mouth."

Sluggishly Athos followed Porthos' words and he opened it. Porthos started to give him a drink from the broth and the injured man managed to gulp the whole cup.

"A second one. You can do this." Aramis encouraged him from the other side.

Athos slowly opened his eyes again and turned his head towards Aramis, while Porthos refilled the cup and pressed it again at his lips. Athos drank again, but after several sips he turned his head away and gave Porthos to understand that he had enough.

 _Better than nothing._ Porthos thought and put the cup down again.

"Why … am … I … so … cold …?" Athos gasped. His breathing changed into shallow breaths again and his whole body slightly trembled.

"You have lost a lot of blood."

Aramis explained, but Athos didn't listen anymore. He closed his eyes again, his mouth now wide open he struggled for each breath and tried to suck in more air.

"Help me to turn him over onto his left side again, Porthos." Aramis instructed. "Easy, Athos, easy. You will be better."

Porthos carefully rolled him on his left side and gently stroked over Athos' back.

"His skin is still very cold." He told Aramis.

"We need to warm him up. I have an idea. Help me."

"What do you want to do?" Porthos looked at Aramis.

"I will lie next to him on his right side, holding him with my arms in this position, because it will help him to breathe more evenly again and then you will both tuck us in under the sheets and blankets. I hope that my body heat will help to warm him." Aramis explained.

Porthos helped Aramis over on the other side of Athos' bed. The marksman still swayed dangerously while walking over the wooden floor and his head pained him, but he ignored it.

"You will suffer a heat stroke, Aramis?" Porthos told him, when he had finally tucked both of his friends under several sheets and the warm blanket."

"I will manage for a while." Aramis quietly answered. He had put both of his arms around Athos' upper body, so that his friend's back was now better supported. He could feel Athos' rapid heartbeat, when his hand touched his chest, but the shallow breathing had changed again."

Athos leaned into Aramis touch and fell asleep.

"He's out again." Porthos commented. "I hope your plan works."

"I hope so too." Aramis closed his eyes and let his head rest on Athos' back. He could feel the tremors which were still running over his friend's body.

 _Fight Athos, fight. We are with you. We will help you through this nightmare together._

Aramis thought, then the heat made him sleepy too and he closed his eyes and fell into a light sleep as well.

 **XXXXX**

"What's wrong with Athos?" D'Artagnan asked suddenly his pained ankle completely forgotten.

In the dimn light of the canteen, which was lit by several candles he now watched his Captain's face more closely. His eyes looked fatigued, his face was ashen and if d'Artagnan wouldn't have known better he would have guessed him ten years older.

Tréville sighed inwardly, how should he open this conversation. What should he say, what should he leave out. Athos had begged them not to tell d'Artagnan about the main gauche and for now he would keep this promise.

"Juan attacked Athos and Aramis in the infirmary about one hour ago. You were right d'Artagnan with your instinct.

"How bad?" D'Artagnan asked while noticing that his voice was betraying him and trembling slightly.

"Juan knocked Aramis unconscious with a dagger, he has a mild concussion. Athos is worse. He plunged the dagger into his right arm. The wound is deep and Athos has lost a lot of blood."

Tréville knew that the message was a shock for the young man who adored his mentor. The previous hours had already been hard for him, but this was a new nightmare. He noticed tears welling up in the young man's eyes and he understood his feelings so much.

"Will he survive?" D'Artagnan whispered.

"The doctor was here and treated his wounds, but he told us that he wasn't sure, if he will survive this second attack. As you have seen Athos is very weak and his body is in shock caused by the blood loss. I told him to fight, but …"

Tréville now ran both of his hands over his face and hesitated to say the next words.

"I want to sit with him. I want to help." D'Artagnan whispered. All his colour had left his face by now.

"First you eat something, then you will take a bath, Henri shall bandage your ankle again and after that you can go back. Athos will be glad to see you, when he wakes up. He asked for you earlier and was worried about you."

"He shouldn't be worried about me … that's all my fault … if …"

"Stop that, your instincts that something was wrong have probably saved Athos' life."

"How?"

"Porthos arrived just in time, when Juan had grabbed one of Aramis' pistols and was aiming it at Athos. He shot him. He's dead."

"Can't I go and see him now again, sit with him, only for a few minutes and then do all the other things?" D'Artagnan tried it again, feeling his strongest desire to be next to his ailing mentor right now.

"If he wakes up and sees you like that it will only upset him … look at you … you are in pain, the forest mud is still visible on your face and clothes. No, do as I told you and then you can go."

D'Artagnan nodded, still fighting with his emotions. At this moment Serge approached them.

"Here you go." He put two bowls of steaming stew in front of both Musketeers.

"Eat." He ordered.

D'Artagnan hurried to fulfill his task and even though he was not hungry at all he started to clear the bowl with a spoon, but Tréville brushed the bowl aside and stood up. He felt Serge's hand on his shoulder, pressing him down on his chair again.

 **XXXXX**

"You just told the boy that he has to eat. Same goes for you, Captain. When did you have your last meal?" Serge asked the Captain.

Tréville sighed again feeling a headache approaching him.

"You're right Serge, it's only … I need …"

"You need to eat first and then we'll have to talk."

"About what? I need to go to the palace … I'm already late for the meeting with the King. He will be furious."

Tréville looked curiously at the old cook, while d'Artagnan had already finished his bowl. Without saying another word he stood up and putting all his pressure on his left foot and leg he limped away into the direction of the bath house, hoping that there would be a bathtub with warm water.

Tréville and Serge looked after him, the old man waited until he was sure that no one else could hear them, then he sat down at the table next to the Captain. Curiously Tréville looked at his cook, while starting slowly to eat. When Serge was still searching for the right words how he should start his report. Tréville put the spoon down and looked up.

"What is it?" He asked impatiently.

"How are they?" Serge asked, scratching nervously his hair.

"Athos is … to be honest Serge, I don't know if he will survive ..." Tréville looked exhausted up and Serge could see the worry in his blue eyes.

"He's a fighter Captain." Serge tried to comfort his Captain, but his commanding officer only shook his head.

"All the way to _Château de Fontainebleau_ , I told d'Artagnan that Athos would be better, but now … I …" He paused and gulped. "But that's not why you wanted to talk to me, is it?" He looked into Serge's eyes and the old man shook quietly his head.

"How's Aramis?"

"He has a mild concussion, he will recover. Why?" Tréville asked.

"There was a lady here this afternoon, asking for him." Serge begun.

Tréville frowned.

"A lady?"

"Yes, she had an expensive dress on. It was odd, she tried to see Aramis, but when she was told that he wouldn't have time for her she hid in the stables, obviously waiting for a chance to see him nevertheless."

Tréville growned:

"Aramis and his love life! Did you talk to her?"

"Yes, I told her that he hasn't any time for her."

"Did she say why she wanted to see him?"

"She wanted to warn him about her husband, she said that he had found out about them …"

 _Good grief can this day become even more complicated? First they don't manage to protect Athos from Juan, now a strange woman walks in the walls of our garrison._

"I hope you told her that she has nothing to worry about."

Tréville sighed, knowing very well that Aramis could deal with this problem another day. Sometimes he wondered if he was surrounded by idiots.

"Captain, she insisted on talking to him and when I told her he hadn't time, she left a note for him and asked me to give it only to him, but then there was this second attack on Athos' life and I figured it wasn't the right time ..." Serge paused again, now removing the letter from his jacket and holding it nervously in his hands.

"Aramis is in no condition to see anyone." Tréville answered.

"That's the note she left for him." Serge gave the folded paper to Tréville.

"Do you know what it says?"

"No. I promised her to give it only to him, but now … it could be important, but I doubt that Aramis is able to deal with it, if he has a concussion."

"We can always give it to him, when he feels better. No need to read a letter that is meant only for Aramis' eyes."

Tréville put the note unread next to his bowl on the table, lifted the spoon and continued eating feeling his stomach grumbling.

"Actually, Captain, I wondered for a long time, if I should tell Aramis about that woman at all. I had the impression that she was lying to me, she didn't want to see Aramis, but rather … how shall I explain it … I think she wanted to see Athos."

Tréville let the spoon drop back in the bowl, glared at Serge and sighed aloud.

"Why do you think that?"

"I believe I've seen that woman before. I think she was the reason why Athos shot at d'Artagnan several weeks ago …" Serge mumbled.

"He didn't shoot him … it …" Tréville stopped, remembering what had happened several weeks ago. "What did this woman look like?" He cautiously asked.

 _Can it be? Is Milady back? Haven't Aramis and Porthos told me that Athos spared her life, but asked her to leave Paris and France and that she should go to England or Spain …_

"She had dark long hair, which she hid under a dark green cape."

"Green eyes?" Tréville asked now alarmed.

"Yes." Serge mumbled. "A very attractive young woman and intelligent, more a love interest for Athos than for Aramis, if you know what I mean. If Athos ever considered falling in love with a woman ..." He added.

Tréville's hands wandered back to the note.

 _If Serge is right … my God … Milady is back … has she anything to do with the assault on Athos' life? She wanted to see him dead several weeks ago … and she nearly fulfilled her task … This woman is poison for Athos … I can't ignore that letter … I need to know what it says … when this woman tried to reach out for Aramis … it can't be a coincidence that she's now appeared at the garrison after ..._

Without waiting any further he opened the letter and started to read the line Milady had left for Aramis.

 _I know who did this to Athos. Come and meet me in the Wren at nightfall tonight. M._

Tréville stared at the sentence and read over it several times.

 _M. This can only be Milady and the note is really for Aramis, if it had been for Athos she would have signed with A for Anne. Can it be that she knows more about what is going on here? Is she in any way involved in the attack on Athos' life? Gauthier reported to me that probably a woman had brought the letter that Athos should have delivered from Dona Ynes-Mancía to the Queen …_

 _I need to go there and talk to her._

 _Of course it could be a trap, but after all she is still Athos' wife … he did spare her life …_

 _I shall take some Musketeers with me tonight and go to the Wren and discover if it is really Milady, but who else would write such a note. It has to be her ..._

 _Oh, Athos what kind of trap have you stepped in?_

 _This gets more complicated from minute to minute …_

Serge was still sitting next to his Captain and looking at him curiously.

"Was the message important, Captain?" He quietly asked.

"What?" Tréville looked up.

"I mean was it wrong of me to break my promise and give this letter to you?" Serge repeated his question.

"No, your gut reaction was right. Thank you Serge. This letter could be the key to who is behind the attack against Athos' life. I really need to go."

Tréville jumped up, put his hand on Serge's shoulder, pressed it gently as a sign of acknowledgment and then rushed towards the stable.

 _First the King, then I need to find Richelieu and after that I will take Gauthier and several other Musketeers with me and go to the Wren. It has to be Milady … I doubt the story about an envious husband ..._

 **XXXXX**

Over the next hour Athos drifted between conscious and unconsciousness each time he moved in his sleep and either his arm or thigh was moved as well it caused him pain that made him wake up. He felt the soft touch of two arms and hands encircling his upper body and supporting him. He leaned into the touch but was not coherent enough to know who was holding him or why.

Each time he opened his eyes Porthos was there with a cup of broth talking and encouraging his brother to drink as much as possible. Sometimes it was a fight, because Athos sluggishly turned his head away, too confused to really register where he was or why he had to drink, being numbed by the pain in his body and his cold extremities, but each time Porthos won. With a bright smile and a joke or a supporting word on his lips, not letting go of Athos until he completed his task and Athos drank the salty broth. After that he drifted back again into a restless sleep, being chased by nightmares, which made him feel horrible and had him gasping for more air.

In one of his dreams he saw his brother Thomas lying dead on the floor in his manor. Tears were running down his cheeks and Porthos gently wiped them away, praying inwardly that Athos would wake up again. Aramis who had woken and was sweating under several blankets, tried to comfort Athos by whispering soothing words in his ear. It seemed to work, because his brother became calmer again.

The next time Athos' felt an immense pain in his leg and started to drift back to consciousness Aramis felt him trying to move and lie on his back. The medic gently entangled himself from the blankets and helped Athos to turn around.

"Are you with us?" He asked quietly.

"Hmm … what …"

"Are you awake?"

"I am … soo … tired …"

"I know. Some more broth and we'll let you sleep again." Porthos told him, while already pressing the cup to his lips and gently lifting his head.

Athos obeyed without fighting him this time.

"How long …" Athos mumbled after he had finished drinking and Porthos had gently helped to lay his head back on the pillow."

"How long what?" Aramis asked.

"Don't … know …" Athos mumbled exhausted. Then he turned his head towards Aramis, who was now sitting on the mattress and inspecting the cut the blade had left in it. "D'Artagnan …"

"Is back at the garrison. The Captain has sent him to take a bath." Porthos informed him. "He will come here as soon as he is finished."

"That … sounds … like him …" Athos slurred.

Aramis tried to ignore his headache and looked in his friend's pale face. His green eyes, still half open stared at something on the small table next to them.

"You saved me … mis …"

"What?" Aramis looked at him.

"Your pistol … saved me … you had put it over there …" He mumbled.

"You remember what happened?" Porthos asked, now sitting next to his friend on the other side of the mattress. "Do you want to tell us?"

"Hmm …" Athos mumbled and looked again in the distance. "I thought it was all over …"

"I can't remember anything. He knocked me out at once." Aramis gently added. "Can you tell us?"

"He knocked … you out … then he tried to slit my throat …" Athos shuddered. "I had to put my arm between … my throat … and … the blade." Athos gasped. His eyes now more open, but still unfocused. He seemed to revive the whole incident again.

Porthos shared a worried glance with Aramis asking with his eyes if it was such a good thing to let him tell them now. Aramis only nodded slightly with his head well aware that another wave of dizziness could hit him through this movement.

 _It's good that he remembers. It helps him to talk about it._ Aramis thought.

"What happened then?"

"I felt the blade in my arm … but no pain …"

"It's normal …" Aramis gently stroked with his hand over his friend's head.

"Then I saw your … pistol … I grabbed it, aimed at his chest and shot." Athos said now slightly agitated. "He let the … main … gauche … drop and tumbled backwards … no … something is wrong … I …" Athos put his left hand on his head and groaned out loud.

"It's enough." Porthos intervened. "Does your head hurt?" He asked.

"A little … everything is … so mixed … up." Frustratedly Athos let his head loll back on his pillow and he closed his eyes again.

"How do you feel?" Aramis gently touched his friend's cheek with his palm and Athos opened his green eyes again.

"Tired, my whole … body hurts me … each time … I move …"

"Do you still feel cold?" Aramis asked cautiously.

"No, I feel ... warmer … thank you … that was you … holding me … am … right?" He slurred then he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

"Yes, Athos, that was me." Aramis gently pressed his friend's hand, but Athos didn't react to the touch anymore. Aramis could hear the even breathing a sign that he had fallen in a deeper sleep now.

"Was that necessary?" Porthos looked angrily at Aramis.

"He remembers what has happened. It's a good sign. The confusion is leaving him, he is less cold and the pupils of his eyes are getting smaller."

"That's why you forced him to open his eyes again."

"Yes, I wanted to have a second look. Come help me to stand up, then we can tuck him in the blankets again. His body is still too cold for my liking, but he isn't trembling anymore. It's another good sign." Aramis smiled.

"I can help you with the blankets. You should lie down, Aramis." Aramis and Porthos turned their heads to the newcomer, who was now standing in the doorway of the infirmary.

"It's good to see you freshened up." Porthos smiled at him.

"I will gratefully accept your help, d'Artagnan." Aramis smiled. "I really need to lie down again." Aramis felt with his hands at the bandage trying to massage the pain away.

Porthos helped him over to his bed and gently pulled the blanket over his friend's tired body. Then he turned his head towards d'Artagnan.

"Come over here. I will need your help."

D'Artagnan followed his brother's order, limped over to him and helped him to tuck Athos anew in several sheets and his blue blanket.

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	34. Chapter 34

**_I hope you all have a lovely and not too stressful December weekend. Here is the next chapter._**

 ** _Enjoy! xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I'm glad Treville told d'Art that the lad's instincts were right on about another attack on Athos happening.  
Ah, that should be an interesting meeting between Treville and the cardinal. Most curious as to what the captain will be telling His Eminence and what Richelieu's reaction will be.  
And now the plot thickens again now that Treville knows Milady has an interest/knowledge of what happened to Athos.  
Wonder if she'll stick around when the captain shows up instead of Aramis."_**

 ** _Thank you so much Debbie. Yes it was important for d'Artagnan to hear these words from Tréville. I still have no idea how he will react when he finds out about his main gauche, at one point he will … I'm sure …_**

 ** _Tréville and the Cardinal … they will meet but not in this chapter. About Milady wait & see xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Excellent chapter again. Not too much to worry about but Athos still has a long way to go before he is recovered."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review Barbara. Are you sure about Athos and not too much to worry … xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 34**

Milady walked through the small streets of Paris near _le Louvre_. After she'd had no luck with talking to Aramis, she had aimlessly left the garrison. Now she stopped at several market stands to have a look at the goods, the food, or feel the fabric of some new cloth, but she didn't buy anything. She had no money left. After Athos had told her to leave France she had returned to the place where she had hidden all her riches, but the purse with several diamonds, jewelry and coins was gone. Stolen. All the money she had earned in the service as a spy for Cardinal Richelieu had ended in smoke and left her once again destitute.

She remembered how she had dropped exhausted on the hard wooden chair in the room, where she had hid her riches, feeling suddenly so empty and lost. It took her a while until she realised that she had to start all over again.

It hadn't been the first time that she had to deal with the reality of being poor. She had always tried to get away from such a life. She tricked and cheated only to flee poverty and each time she ended up with nothing but her miserable life.

At least she was alive, a second time Athos had failed to kill her. Memories of happier days had crossed her mind and for a moment she had transferred herself in this dream world - a world of happiness and laughter, of running over green hills in front of Athos' manor, kissing him and lying together in the grass and loving each other -, but the cold room and loud screams coming from somewhere outside, quickly drove her back to reality.

She didn't scream or shout angrily, she didn't cry tears about her loss and her fate, but instead she suddenly started to laugh out loud.

 _Go to England, to Spain, but leave Paris, leave France!_

Athos had ordered her after he had retrieved the sword from her neck, hauled her back to her feet and spared her life. He hadn't been able to kill her.

 _Was it because his friends had asked him to spare her? Was it because he still loved her? Was it because he knew that killing her with his own sword would finally destroy him?_ Milady couldn't tell.

When she had tried to kill him by burning down his house the chain with her pendant around his neck had suddenly stopped her. She hadn't expected that he would be wearing it.

 _What is it, that makes us feel so much love for each other that it hurts, but wants us to kill each other at the very same time?_ She had wondered.

She shook her head when she had finally stopped her hysterical laughter.

 _Oh Athos, it's easier said than done. How can I leave without money? I can't pay the passage for the ship to sail to England, but I can't stay here in Paris. The Cardinal wants to see me dead after I failed in killing the Queen._

Milady had started to think what she should do next. She needed a plan. At first she searched a new hideout. She found a vacant flat near the _Court of Miracles_ , where she stayed for several days. During day time she walked through the small streets of Paris: stealing food, money and dresses, if she had the chance. Soon she had enough money together to finally leave, but she wanted more and so she decided that she had to trick herself back into the ranks of nobility. She had heard about a rich Spanish nobleman who was on his way to _Château de Fontainebleau_ with his niece. Her connections with the palace and hearing about the latest _Court gossip_ were still good and one Sunday morning while most people were at church she had set her plan in motion.

She had gathered all her new belongings that she wanted to take with her, then she had stolen a brown stallion from one of the palace stables and had ridden towards the château. In the forest nearby the castle she had then waited until she had heard a carriage arriving.

Dressed in her most expensive dress she had thrown herself in the dirt on the main road hitting her head harder than she had intended on an oak tree. With the bloody wound near her temple she had lain herself on the road, which the carriage would most probable cross, hiding her horse nearby she had pretended that she had fallen from her horse and lost her memory. Her trick worked. The coachman had stopped the horses after seeing the young woman lying unconscious in the mud.

Don Fernando, who had been in the carriage with his niece had stepped down and after seeing that the woman was obviously in need of help and after the plea of his niece they had decided to bring the injured woman -who was dressed as a noblewoman- to the château.

For the next few days Milady had been lucky, she could stay in her own big room, was treated with care, could enjoy lots of food and live the life of a noblewoman. Dona Ynes-Mancía had already invited her to come with them to Italy, in order to have more time to regain her memory, when fate had struck again. She had overheard a conversation Don Fernando had had with another man ordering him to kill a Musketeer.

Milady paused at a corner near the palace and angrily shook her head. She didn't want to think now about what had happened then. She still needed to be cautious. If the Cardinal or one of his spies or a Red Guard found out that she was back in Paris, she would be in immediate danger. The Cardinal had threatened to kill her and she knew that the man was unscrupulous enough to murder her or to order her killed without having second thoughts or doubts. This man was dangerous, she had worked long enough for him to know that. She sighed and wondered where she should spend the rest of the day until she could meet and talk to Aramis, when she noticed a figure she knew.

 _What on earth is he doing here?_ Milady wondered, recognising the Spaniard at once. _Don Fernando here, that doesn't bode well. I need to follow him and find out what he's up to. He told Dona Ynes-Mancía that he wouldn't return to Paris. I need to be careful that he doesn't discover that I am in Paris and that I am going to follow him._

Milady waited several seconds before following the Spaniard to one of the more unpopular inns in the city.

 **XXXXX**

"I think he's waking up again." Porthos whispered to d'Artagnan.

They were both sitting on chairs on Athos' right side, while Aramis was still sleeping in the bed on his left side, one of his hands protectively placed on Athos's left shoulder. D'Artagnan's right leg was resting on a second chair, which Porthos had fetched for him with a soft pillow on the hard wooden seat. They had kept vigil over their ailing friend for over an hour now, staying silent near each other in order not to disturb their patients.

Enduring Athos' whimpers and moans, when he moved and felt his arm and leg hurting him, was the hardest part for the young Gascon, but if he had to guess Porthos was no better. Each time d'Artagnan wanted to jump up and hurry over to him, Porthos stopped him with his gentle giant hands, pressing him down on the wooden seat and whispering:

"Let him sleep, when he wakes you can give him some broth, but his body needs rest, so calm."

D'Artagnan couldn't be calm, didn't want to be calm. Athos still pale appearance frightened him. How he had hoped and wished that Athos would be better by now. Trusting Tréville's words all the way to _Château de Fontainebleau_ and back that Athos would heal again.

He felt guilty and responsible that they had not been able to stop Juan from this dreadful deed and once again d'Artagnan's thoughts drifted off to the horrible night he had found his father dying in the cold rain that was pouring on them. He ignored his own hurting ankle, knowing that it would heal again. Another now louder moan escaped Athos' lips and he could see how Aramis' hand gently pressed his friend's shoulder, while turning his head towards him and opening his eyes. The marksman still must feel horrible, but he kept his own pain to himself in order to comfort Athos.

 _What team we are?_ D'Artagnan thought bitterly. _Besides Porthos we aren't fit for duty right now._

"Shhh …" He heard Aramis soothing and calming his friend, while Athos was fighting with opening his eyes blinking heavily.

Next to him Porthos stood up to prepare another cup with warm broth. D'Artagnan waited for his friend's instructions now unsure and insecure what he should say to Athos. He wanted to be near his friend and mentor and in the same time he wanted to hide in a deep dark corner.

Aramis turned his head towards him and whispered.

"He's waking up, d'Artagnan. Come here to me. He'll be glad to see you." Then he turned all his attention back to Athos, who whimpered again.

"Wake up my friend. You need to drink some more broth and you have a visitor who wants to see you."

"Go … away … want … sleep." Athos mumbled, while looking with half opened eyes in Aramis' smiling face.

"That's it. Stay awake." Aramis encouraged him.

Athos sighed deeply and tried to press his aching head more in the soft pillow. Very slowly he finally started to inspect his hurting body. His eyes wandered over his blue blanket and rested for a while on his right arm, which was throbbing heavily and laid in an odd position on his belly under his blanket. Confused he blinked again, not knowing why he couldn't move it. He wanted to ask, but in this moment his left leg started to itch and his eyes wandered to his feet, which were strangely elevated so that he couldn't see the bedpost at the end of his feet.

"Why are ... my legs ... in this position?" He asked sluggishly.

"You have lost a lot of blood. I have made the experience that it helps with shock sometimes."

Aramis mumbled, while trying to sit up and untangle himself from the blanket Porthos had wrapped him in earlier. He regretted it at once, when his head protested and he felt dizzy. Staying in the position he was, he started to breathe heavily."

"Don't overdo it." Porthos chided him from the distance, then he gave d'Artagnan a gentle push, who had stood up in the meantime but didn't dare to walk nearer to Athos.

"See who is back?" Porthos smiled broadly.

Athos' eyes wandered from Aramis to Porthos and they stopped at d'Artagnan, looking in his embarrassed face.

"D'Artagnan."

Athos whispered barely audible, then he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, when he felt a heavy weight dropping from his chest, such as when a giant stone which had rested on his rib cage was lifted away.

D'Artagnan who thought Athos was feeling worse couldn't move.

"Go over to him." Porthos pushed d'Artagnan further towards Athos, so that he now stood between the two beds.

"Come. Sit with me." Athos mumbled while tears were glistening in his eyes.

"How are you?" D'Artagnan stuttered, not sure how he should deal with Athos' sudden sadness.

"Thank God ... you are alive."

Athos whispered barely audible, while reaching with his good left hand for d'Artagnan's, who pressed the cold hand gently with his fingers- ignoring his bandaged hurting palms-, while sitting down on the stool between the two beds.

"Why shouldn't I be?" D'Artagnan softly answered. His voice suddenly higher than usual and he tried to clear his throat to get rid of this odd voice.

"I feared …" Athos started but a stabbing pain in his left leg made him pause and he groaned out loud. "Arghhh!" He screamed and pressed d'Artagnan's fingers tighter. The young man could feel the cold fingers trembling slightly in his.

"What is it?" D'Artagnan asked his voice now filled with concern.

"My bloody leg. It feels ... like thousand bee stings … attacking me ... at the same time." He gasped for air and closed his eyes again.

"You need a pain potion." Aramis said from behind d'Artagnan. "It should ease your pain."

"No …"

Athos protested weakly and turned his eyes filled with moisture towards Aramis, who had both of his hands pressed at his head to finally stop the spinning of the room.

"You look … horrible." Athos mumbled. "You should … rest."

"I will as soon as you are better."

Aramis answered and looked in Athos' pale face and bloodshed eyes. A new layer of cold sweat had formed on his friend's face and he wished he had the strength to clean it with a washcloth.

"What did you fear?" D'Artagnan asked shyly.

"The man … he said … he killed you ... " Athos locked eyes with his younger brother. "It was a lie. It's so good to see you." He mumbled.

"You need to drink some more broth." Porthos insisted. "D'Artagnan will help you."

Porthos already expected Athos' protest. He felt so tired, so angry, so helpless and for a moment he was glad that d'Artagnan was sitting next to Athos.

"No, no more broth … I can't …" Athos complained.

Another moan escaped his mouth when he felt the pulsing wound in his arm, which left him breathless.

"Oh yes you can. D'Artagnan will help you!"

Porthos insisted, while pressing d'Artagnan the prepared cup in his hand. That his friend was still in so much pain frustrated him. His eyes wandered over to Aramis and they started a silent conversation with their concerned eyes.

 _"_ _You need to give him the pain potion."_

 _"_ _We tried before. He refused it."_

 _"_ _He needs to sleep longer, the pain doesn't help him to rest. Give it to him."_

 _"_ _How? He will fight me. I don't want to force him, he's gone through enough, don't you think?"_

 _"_ _We need to decide for him or he will …"_

 _"_ _You really think that …"_

 _"_ _He's still not out of the woods yet … I would do it, but I can't … please Porthos."_ Aramis waited until Porthos finally gave him a short nod, that he agreed with him.

In the meantime d'Artagnan - who had no idea what was going on behind his back - made Athos to drink the broth holding the cup in his bandaged hands and trying to suppress his own pain. Before Athos could protest a second time. He felt d'Artagnan's gentle hand, behind the back of his head, helping to lift it, while he pressed the cup on his lips. He was too tired to feel the bandage around d'Artagnan's palm. Under other circumstances he would have glared angrily at d'Artagnan, but the soft touch from d'Artagnan's fingers grounded him.

"Drink, Athos, you need it, to get better. I don't want to lose you. So please do me the favour."

Athos could hear the frightened voice of his friend. He didn't want to scare his young protégé furthermore and obeyed. When he had finished the cup he exhausted gave d'Artagnan a sign with his eyes to help him to lie down again and he felt d'Artagnan's hand gently guiding him down on his pillow.

"See, you managed." D'Artagnan smiled proudly at him while breathing inwardly through his own pain.

"Thank you." Athos mumbled and closed exhausted his eyes again.

In the meantime Porthos had prepared the pain potion. Giving it to him now would hopefully allow Athos to rest more peacefully. He knew that he had to stop his stubborn friend from accepting the needed medicine and Aramis counted on him. Anyway having experienced Athos' previous behaviour, he already knew that he would have to fight Athos, but they both had no chance and he inwardly prayed that d'Artagnan would help calming Athos furthermore.

Before Athos realised what was happening, Porthos bent down over his face. Irritatedly he opened his eyes again, when he felt his brother's warm breath on his face.

"You need this."

Porthos softly whispered in his ear, while gently stroking over his brother's hair. Then he lifted his friend's head for a second time in the past minutes and pressed the cup with the bitter drink at his lips.

"Don't ..." Athos mumbled and tried to protest.

"Open your mouth or I have to force you to open it and I don't want to do that." Porthos pleaded him.

Athos tried to turn his head away, but Porthos stopped it with his left hand.

"Shh … Athos, you need this pain potion now. Do you listen to me?" Porthos asked.

D'Artagnan felt Athos' hand pressing his fingers while trying to avoid Porthos' ernest glare and the bitter potion.

"It makes me … I don't want to … leave me ..."

Athos tired to protest, while opening his mouth, which he now found out was a mistake because this was the moment Porthos used to deplete some fluid of the cup in his mouth.

"I know it makes you sleepy and confused. Gulp now!" He ordered with a strict tone in his voice and Athos obeyed. Porthos had already expected more protest when he tried to give him a second sip, but this time Athos followed his brother's instructions. "That's it my friend. Knew you can do it." He smiled encouragingly at Athos.

After Athos had finished the pain potion he looked with an angry glare at Porthos.

"No need to thank me." Porthos mumbled slightly agitated.

"I simply … don't like … the taste …" Athos murmured.

"That's why you want to suffer instead?"

Porthos raised his eyebrows, searched his brother's sleepy eyes and gently stroked over his brother's thick brown hair. Athos leaned in his hand and searched with his eyes Porthos'. The latter fetched a washcloth with he had prepared with warm water and gently wiped the cold sweat from his brother's face. Not letting Athos's green shimmering eyes out of his side and smiling at him. Athos felt the warm water on his skin and he was grateful for Porthos' help. Ashamed he blinked with his eyes, when he realised that with his stubborn behaviour he had hurt his strong friend.

"I'm sorry … I simply feel sooo …"

Athos mumbled, then he closed his eyes and drifted off in a more painless sleep.

 _Thank God. Finally, I am sorry my friend. I had no choice and the thing is you wanted me to do it this way. Oh, Athos. Get better. I need you._

"Did you really have to force him?"

D'Artagnan glared angrily at Porthos, but he regretted his tone at once, when he noticed that Porthos tried to blink some tears away, while his left hand still rested on Athos' head.

"He's a stubborn mule … that's what he is …" Porthos stood up to put the washcloth away and turned his back towards his friends.

"Porthos … I am sorry … I didn't mean …"

"Do you think I like to see him suffer … he's in pain, he's cold, he's fighting for his life and refuses our help … because his hurting and confused mind can't think clearly right now. I am sorry d'Artagnan … I am so angry, so upset, so … not angry with him … how could I be … I am angry with whoever is behind all this, who did this to him. I guess I am overtired." Porthos led his shoulder hung and without a further word he left the infirmary.

D'Artagnan felt his cheeks becoming hot. He tried to run after Porthos forgetting about his ankle he stood up, only to feel the pain and winced. Frustratedly he let himself drop on the small stool, while he suddenly felt Aramis' hand pressing his thigh.

"Don't be upset with Porthos. I told him to give Athos the pain potion. We tried it before."

Aramis carefully glanced with his eyes over to his sleeping friend. First time we gave it him, he spit it all out after several seconds. After that we asked him each time he woke up and each time he refused to drink it." He sighed.

"I'm sorry." D'Artagnan mumbled. "I had no idea …"

"Athos' body needs the sleep, but the pain in his thigh and arm wakes him up each time he moves. It's not good for him." Aramis quietly explained, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing heavily, when another wave of dizziness washed over him.

"You should rest too." D'Artagnan mumbled. "I should go after Porthos and apologise."

"Give him some time on his own. He won't go far away. He has found the both of us", Aramis looked over to Athos, "lying in our blood on the floor. And last night wasn't easy for him as well. We nearly lost Athos to a high fever. He's simply exhausted and hearing Athos moaning and groaning in pain doesn't help him to calm or relax. He's frightened to lose him."

"Don't you think he will recover?" D'Artagnan asked hoping for a positive answer.

"Porthos said Athos is a stubborn mule and I really hope he is right, because when he's stubborn enough he will fight …" Aramis blinked. "Stay here, watch over Athos. Then I can sleep too."

D'Artagnan nodded and Aramis closed exhausted his eyes.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Outside the infirmary_**

Porthos stumbled out of the door with blurred eyes. He needed fresh air. D'Artagnan's words were still ringing in his ears. He nearly walked into Henri, who quickly stepped aside, when Porthos tried to hurry with a fast pace away.

"Porthos? What's wrong? Are you alright?" He heard Henri's concerned words behind him.

"Just give me a minute. Will you?" Porthos answered quietly and stumbled over to the well, which was situated near the stables.

Henri followed him with some distance. Knowing that Porthos probably would need someone to talk to. He watched Porthos putting his hands in a basket full of cool water and pouring some of the liquid over his neck, his head bent, his face sinister.

"Is Athos alright?" Henri quietly stepped next to him and put a hand on the streetfighter's shoulder.

"He's a stubborn mule …" Porthos mumbled. "I should have known that Tréville would order guards in front of the infirmary. Who else is now there?" He looked for a moment up, while driving his wet hand over his eyes and cleaning with the water his whole face.

"Albert. And we are only a few steps away." Henri smiled. "He's safe now." He added.

"Someone must save him from himself." Porthos snorted angrily.

"That bad?" Henri asked.

"When you try to help and each time you hear _"_ _no I don't want"_ … it's …"

"Athos." Henri answered quietly and shook his head. "Stubborn as always even when his life is at stake."

"Exactly." Porthos groaned and leaned himself at the corner of the well, looking towards Henri.

"What did he do?"

"He refused to take a pain potion, I just had to force him to drink it."

"Usually Aramis is good in talking him into …" Henri helped.

"Not this time. He is fighting to stay awake and he has to deal with his concussion. He probably needs a pain draught as well." Porthos snorted.

"But Athos accepted it now from you?"

"Yes he did." Porthos sighed. "I hope and pray that he will survive." Porthos admitted openly to the seasoned soldier.

"He's stubborn, as you just stated yourself, he will."

"Why are you so certain, Henri?" Porthos decided to drink some of the cool water and put up the wooden ladle and poured the cool liquid in his mouth and over his face again.

"Do you remember how you tried to teach him fist fighting."*

"Oh yes. That's a long time ago." Porthos had to smile, when pictures appeared in front of his inner eye, showing Athos' lying in the wet mud on the courtyard floor.

"It had rained cats and dogs that day." Henri softly said.

"And the Captain had ordered us to teach him how to fight." Porthos mumbled. "Aramis was standing under the balcony, seeking shelter from the cold rain, but Athos could not accept that I had won."

"He always told you that your fistfight was _"_ _not fair"_."

"Nahh, he didn't use that word. He said _"_ _it's not correct"_." Porthos shook his wet hair like a dog and smirked.

"He was not used to my dirty street-fight tricks. It took us a while to teach him that it was noble too, to fight like this." Porthos sighed then he added: "You know back then I had no idea, but now knowing about his background, having been educated to be a Comte one day." Porthos laughed. "I now understand why he was so angry and dissatisfied with my fighting skills."

"How long did you fight with him that day?" Henri asked.

"The whole afternoon and each time he landed on the wet floor, he shook his wet hair, paused sometimes after being dazed, but every single time he stood up on his own and tried to win against me."

"He felt sore for two weeks afterwards, had several bruised ribs and a black eye. Tréville wondered if he would make it to morning muster the following day, after we brought him to the infirmary, but he made it." Henri laughed.

"Oh yes, Aramis had to finally stop him, after he was bleeding from several cuts on his face. I felt so horrible …" Porthos sighed.

"He didn't give up." Henri whispered.

"Naa … he is a fighter, a stubborn mule, a great warrior and my friend." Porthos answered while he felt tears welling up in his eyes, when he thought about Athos lying so helpless and feeble in his bed.

"He is and that's why I know that he will pull through. Ignore what the doctor says, Porthos. Drink some more water, eat and then go back in there and show him that you are there for him." Henri clapped Porthos on his back. "And if he starts to fight you it's only a sign that his strength is coming back."

Porthos nodded.

"Thank you, Henri. I needed that …"

"Make sure that he survives, Porthos and if it takes to constrain him, do it. One day he will be our Captain and a good one." Henri said quietly. Then he left Porthos, who decided that it was time to follow Henri's advice and to eat something.

 _Athos, Captain! He will hate that idea._ Porthos grinned and walked over to the canteen.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 **Note:**

And here it is the backstory to _„_ _Facing the Storm"_ : Porthos and Athos first fistfight!

* * *

 ** _Special thanks goes out to my lovely beta Beth. Get better soon! xx Kira_**


	35. Chapter 35

**_Thank you so much for reading and leaving a comment!_**

 ** _Here is the next chapter, I hope I can post ch 36 on Saturday._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Beeblegirl:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Thanks for this new chapter Kira, I don't know how you find the time to keep your fics going but so glad you do. Interesting information about Milady's involvement in this, I hope she doesn't end up in trouble before Treville gets to talk with her."_**

 ** _Thank you so much. To be honest I sometimes don't know when and where to find the time. For this story I try to have already several chapters ready in advance and posting only on a weekly basis, does help. But some scenes are still missing in these chapters regarding the plot and so I put them in, when I find the time or instead of watching TV in the evening._**

 ** _It had to come at one point that I had to put in how Milady is involved in all of this. I could have wrote it earlier or I could have written a whole chapter only about her backstory, but I decided to put it in in several chapters. Let's see if she will be able to talk to Tréville or flee if she sees him … and what will she find out about Don Fernando?_**

 ** _Allow me to say thank you here for the review to my ch 12 of "Facing the Storm" – I see no other way to do it._**

 ** _"_** ** _Thank you for writing this fic. It was an excellent take on how things started for our inseparables, enjoyable, easy to read and just the right amount of angst, drama and brotherhood. Thank you again and I look forward to the next chapter in your series of pre-series, when you have the time."_**

 ** _I am really happy that you enjoyed this story. Looking forward to write the other two parts, if I find enough time ;-), but I have still some ideas and I want to do it. Thank you so much for your words. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _They need to bottle d'Art up as medicinal medicine since his influence is so good on Athos. LOL! But, alas, Porthos is now upset. But he cheered up at the end when Henri said Athos would become their captain one day."_**

 ** _Ha ha … poor d'Artagnan he would never be able to come out of this bottle again._**

 ** _Porthos has to deal with a very stubborn patient and I fear it will even get worse between the two of them. Oh yes, he needed Henri to calm down again. Thank you so much. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Excellent chapter. I just want to cuddle Porthos to comfort him. Looking forward to next chapter. I want to find out what happens next."_**

 ** _Thank you. Oh I think he would need your cuddle right now. Next chapter is on its way. xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 35**

Captain Tréville's mood was none the better after he left the King. It was something between a thunderstorm followed by big hailstones and a winter blizzard. He was in a furious state. Angrily he paused in front of the throne hall, drew his hands over his face and closed his eyes for several seconds, before moving on to the quarters of the Cardinal, hoping to find him either there or somewhere else in _Le Louvre._

His elaborate meeting with the King hadn't helped to calm himself or to find any answers about the letter and who could have been behind the attack at one of his Musketeers. On the contrary the discussion with the King had left him with more questions and in an even angrier state. One thing he knew: He had to find the Cardinal, sooner rather than later and he hoped someone would hold him back from using his sword, main gauche, pistol or simply his fist!

King Louis had wanted a detailed report about the attack on Athos' life and when he had heard about the second attack he had shouted angrily at Tréville that _these people_ had to be stopped. Of course Louis had no idea who he meant with " _these people_ " and thinking that Spain had something to do with this whole plot against one French soldier was something that suddenly started to confuse the King even more. He had mused aloud if his wife, Queen Anne, had written in secret to her brother, the King of Spain, to ask him for something, but at the same time that he asked this question he shook his head and told Tréville that Anne would never betray him like that.

 _"_ _Why should she do such a thing? If she has a question to ask her brother she would tell me about it first and then write an official letter, which would be sent to the Court of Spain, not to a … what is this Don Fernando doing … here …"_ Louis had asked.

 _"_ _All I know is that he is on his way to Italy with his niece."_

Tréville had answered agreeing with Louis that the Queen would have no reason to write in private to her brother. Probably she would very soon be the mother of the new King of France, which would secure her position at the Court of France.

Both men stayed silent for a while and then agreed that they didn't believe the story about the training mission which Richelieu had come up with. There had to be more about this letter … but they couldn't work out what it was. Louis became angrier each minute about his Cardinal and Tréville wondered what he would actually do, if the Cardinal were with them in this room.

Not that Tréville wasn't feeling the same anger. But he couldn't show it in front of the King. He hoped to finally be able to confront the Cardinal to question him, to confront him, to find out more about this " _secret mission_ " he somehow was sure Richelieu knew what was going on, but the Cardinal didn't appear. Tréville knew that he had to find him.

Louis had wondered if the Cardinal had already spoken to him as he had ordered but Tréville told him that there hadn't been sufficient time yet. One thing the King was suddenly sure of:

"Come on Tréville." He had shouted agitatedly. "I doubt that this was only about an _invitation_ , I think the Cardinal has sent a second letter with my wife's letter, that's why he needed one of your Musketeers to deliver it."

"I already thought about that possibility, your Majesty, but wouldn't he have informed you about it? And furthermore he could have sent a Red Guard instead." Tréville had asked in cautious reply, sensing the wrath of the King would hit him the very next minute.

Louis who had paced back and forth in front of his throne deep in thought, paused his head turned towards the Captain of the Musketeers and as he looked at the worried and exhausted face of the Captain, he suddenly realised that Tréville was tired and concerned for Athos' life.

"I gave up a long time ago trying to understand the Cardinal's motives sometimes." Louis had sighed. "He's a good adviser and he does all he can for the best of France." He shook his head. "He will have to answer me that question, too, Tréville."

"So why sending one single Musketeer on an obvious dangerous mission?" Tréville asked once again more to himself, while shaking frustratedly his head.

"I don't know, Tréville. Go and talk to the Cardinal. I have a headache now." Louis complained and dropped frustratedly at his throne, giving the Captain of the Musketeers a sign with his hands that he was dismissed.

 **XXXXX**

Porthos had listened to Henri. After he had eaten he had returned into the infirmary. The sad look in d'Artagnan's eyes told him everything. The young man - for him sometimes still a boy - felt sorry. With a glance on Athos and Aramis who were both sleeping, he crossed the room, where d'Artagnan was sitting, dragged him on his feet and embraced him in a long hug without saying a word. Standing there in the spot between the two beds where their brothers were sleeping.

"I'm sorry." D'Artagnan stuttered.

"I know." Porthos whispered in his brother's ear. "Forget about it." Then he showed him away from him in arm's lengths and looked at him from his top to his feet. What he saw startled him. D'Artagnan looked pale, tired, and in pain.

"You need a bed and some good rests sleep d'Artagnan, how is your ankle and your hands? Don't lie to me."

"It still hurts, when I walk and use them from time to time it is pulsing painfully."

"I will give you a pain potion and then you will be a brave boy and sleep. You should have told me earlier." He softly chided his younger brother.

"It's not that bad." D'Artagnan tried to protest, but Porthos didn't listen to him, albeit led him over to another free bed, next to Aramis. He helped d'Artagnan out of his left boot, the other he had not put on again after the bath. Then he lifted his legs on the mattress. D'Artagnan's head sunk exhausted on the pillow and before Porthos could give him a pain potion the young man had fallen asleep.

Now with all of his three friends deep asleep Pothos seated himself next to Athos' bed, checked on Athos' breathing and wiped a new layer of sweat away. Then he started his watch.

Athos wasn't moaning which was a good sign. The next three hours Porthos simply was busy with sitting next to him. He wondered when the doctor would come and hoped that Athos would then be much better. Aramis had woken twice, but he convinced him to drink a pain potion as well and Aramis accepted his caring help, not without teasing him as a nurse.

His thoughts drifted back to the time when they first met and how long it had taken him to finally see in Athos a Musketeer and furthermore a true friend. A soft noise next to him drove him out of his thoughts. Athos right foot moved over the mattress and with his left hand he tried to reach his right hand under the blanket.

"Athos?" Porthos softly asked. "Are you awake?"

"Hmm …" Was the only answer he received, while Athos anxiously tried to pull on his right arm.

"Stop that." Porthos chided him, while he tried to reach for his left hand under the blanket which wasn't that easy without hurting his friend.

"I can't ... move ... my arm." Athos slurred and opened sluggishly his eyes. The pain potion had left him confused.

"We have put a scarf around it. That's why. Stop it or it will only hurt you." Porthos chided him gently.

"Porthos?" Athos asked confused, blinking several times.

"Yes? How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

"No, the pain is more dull … but I am still cold."

"I will give you some warm broth and tea. It should warm you."

"No." Athos protested and looked exhausted at his friend. "I can't …"

Porthos sighed and thought how he could convince his brother to drink more, when Athos mumbled.

"It's not that … I need to …"

"Oh …" Porthos widened his eyes.

 _Of course we have feed him with too much liquid._

"Can you help me up … I could go to the other room …" Athos tried with a pleading look towards his friend.

"Walking is no option for now. Your thigh … remember … last time …" Porthos sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't want remind you of that."

"It's alright." Athos mumbled. "But I really need to …"

"Wait I will bring the chamberpot to you and then I will help you."

Aramis and d'Artagnan were still sleeping, when Porthos returned next to Athos with the chamberpot. In silence he helped him out of his thick blanket and the other sheets.

Athos looked at him astonished.

"Even with these many blankets around me I am still cold?" He sad barely audible.

"I will put on a fire." Porthos mumbled.

"No." Athos tried to protest. "It will not warm me."

"Somehow we have to get you warm again." Porthos looked in his friend's bloodshed and tired eyes after he had removed the last sheet and busied himself with freeing Athos from his braries.

Athos stayed stoic and closed his eyes. He felt a dull pain in his thigh, when Porthos freed him from his undergown, but he suppressed the moan.

"How shall we do it?" Porthos mumbled.

"Are the others asleep." Athos whispered back.

"Deep, Aramis is even snoring from time to time. The pain potion I gave him knocked him out." He grinned and on Athos' mouth appeared a small smile, which vanished after several seconds again.

"Aramis helped me over the corner of the bed and left then."

"Then I will do the same, but I'm afraid I have to stay. Your arm. It's better when I help you sitting."

Athos nodded tiredly.

"Let's do it. I really need …"

Porthos gently lifted Athos legs over the corner of the bed, then he helped Athos with the chamberpot, which he put on the floor. He sat next to him on the mattress and hold him in a firm grip around his left shoulder.

Athos tried, he felt the pressing bladder, but nothing. Frustrated he angrily growled.

"I can't."

"We wait." Porthos laid his palm at the back of his friend and gently stroked over it. "I have filled you with so much broth, it will come." He chuckled.

Exhausted Athos felt his eyes drooping and he sunk more in himself.

"You can do it." Porthos encouraged him.

"Perhaps it's better when I lie down again." Athos mumbled. The pressing bladder hurt him, but sitting in this position made his thigh and arm throbbing again.

"Let's wait several minutes." Porthos encouraged him. "I will give you the needed privacy and look away.

"It's not that." Athos mumbled, he closed his eyes and let his head drop on Porthos' shoulder, while strands of his hair covered his face, but he didn't fall asleep.

"Have I ever told you about …"

Porthos started to tell Athos some anecdotes of his childhood. Athos felt the strong grip around his shoulder, Porthos' warm body helped him at least to stop shivering and finally his bladder decided to let go. When Porthos heard the sound, he looked discreetly away. Not saying a word.

When Athos sighed after several seconds he helped him back in his bed. Gently he put his braies back on and then layer over layer of sheets and the warm blanket. When he wanted to lift Athos' feet again the swordsman mumbled not do it. Then he turned his head towards Porthos:

"I'm still cold. I don't know why?"

"Where?" Porthos asked.

"My left hand, don't know about the right one, I can feel it only numb," he gulped "my feet and my whole body are trembling slightly."

Porthos looked into his friend's face.

"Nevertheless you are much better, your lips aren't bluish anymore and there is no cold sweat covering your face." He whispered gently. He sat next to his friend on the chair. "I will try it with hot stones and I will make a fire. We will get you warm again."

"It's warm outside. You all will sweat because of me ..." Athos tried to protest.

"A fire, and then warm tea." Porthos smiled at him. Then he stood up and started the fire in the oven and prepared several stones he could use to lie later next to Athos' feet.

Athos' eyes followed him and he watched his brother, who now returned and prepared a cup of tea.

"Here, drink." Porthos sat down on the wooden chair next to Athos' and helped him gently to drink the warm tea.

"No broth this time? What have you put in the tea?" Athos furrowed his brows.

"Honey?" Porthos chuckled. "No, I thought some change in the taste would do you good." He grinned.

Exhausted Athos let his head drop down on the pillow. Porthos put the cup away from him. Then he stroked gently some strands of hair from his friend's forehead. He felt the still too clammy and cool skin under his fingertips. Athos' eyes still followed each of his friend's movement.

"I'm sorry that I'm not better." Athos mumbled.

"What makes you think that?" Porthos frowned and stopped with what he was doing.

"I …" Athos paused. "I ... my arm, my hand … will I ever be able to use it again?"

"Don't worry about that now. It's heavy bandaged and we have put your arm in a sling around your neck. That's why it's impossible for you to move it right now."

"I appreciate your words … but please … don't lie to me … will I lose my arm …"

Porthos sat shocked back, while some tears were running down over Athos' face, searching their way in his beard.

"Hey my friend, who says that you will lose your arm?" Porthos asked irritatedly.

"No one, it's … it's just a feeling." Athos huffed, while Porthos put up a washcloth to remove the tears from his friend's face. Then he had an idea and looked into Athos' eyes.

"Look at me. Do you see that I can't move my hand and arm this way?" Porthos pressed with his own left hand his right hand and arm in a firm grip on his chest.

"No, because it's secured through your other hand." Athos mumbled.

"That's what the scarf is doing right now with your hand and arm. We had put it on your chest, so that it will hurt you less and had to bind it tight. Do you understand what I am saying?" Porthos asked softly.

Athos nodded silently.

"Come let's make you a little warmer." Porthos stood up and walked over to the fireplace where he prepared the hot stones, which he put in several linens. Then he put them towards Athos feet and another to his right side.

Athos could feel the warmth from them. He waited until Porthos had sat next to him again.

"Sleep now, your body will be stronger again. You will feel better, promise." He smiled at his friend.

"I'm sorry, I should have listened earlier to you." Athos said barely audible.

"Stop apologising. The pain and the blood loss is clouding your judgement." He quietly explained.

"I really thought I would die … that's it. If it hadn't been for you … with your pistol …" Athos sobbed.

"You would have done the same."

"I want to thank you. You saved me, Aramis … I …" Athos whispered.

"Thank me with staying alive."

Porthos said in a firm voice. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a lonely tear running down over Athos' cheek dropping in his beard. He gently wiped it away with his thumb away.

"Hey, Athos. We are all here for you. You know that."

"Yes I do." Porthos could feel some slight tremors running through Athos' body.

"Perhaps I should give you more broth." He tried.

"Not now. Later. I'm tired." Athos mumbled.

"Then sleep!" Porthos ordered in a gentle tone.

"Thank you." Athos mumbled and drifted then off in another more peaceful sleep.

Porthos hold his breath. He wanted to cry as well, but he found it somehow not the right place. Henri had been right. Athos needed him at his side. That Athos couldn't move his right hand scared him. Even if he had pretended to show Athos the reason why, he assumed that he must feel his hand nevertheless. Maybe the heavy bandage around his upper arm was causing it or the swelling the wound now certainly had developed. He already wanted to stand up and sort the medicine, cups and teas, when he heard a slow whisper and turned his head around.

"You did good." Aramis barely audible said to him. "He needed that."

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Porthos answered quietly and walked over to him.

"He needed that explanation. He needed your calm presence." Aramis whispered not daring to move his head.

"My calm presence." Porthos huffed. "I'm anything but calm, Aramis."

"And yet you managed to calm our ailing friend. How is he?" Aramis asked.

"His limbs are still cold and he's worried about his right arm, but the pain potion still seems to work. I needed to help him with the chamberpot, but he had difficulties."

"That's to be expected." Aramis murmured.

"How?" Porthos frowned.

"The shock." Aramis answered quietly.

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Perhaps it's good when you elevate his feet again. Just to be sure." Aramis mumbled.

"I think he can stay now in the position he's chosen for himself." Porthos answered Aramis, while moving back towards a table to prepare another cup of tea. Then he walked back over to Aramis' side and sat on the small stool. "Here drink that."

"I don't need your help."

"Oh, yes you do!" Porthos snorted. "You have a concussion. Remember."

"How could I forget. My head is still hurting, but less than before. Thanks to the pain potion." Aramis admitted. Then he felt the cup being pressed in his hands and Porthos gently put his palm behind his head and helped him to lift it.

"Now, drink." Porthos ordered.

Aramis followed Porthos words.

"Why do you think we don't need to put his feet back on the pillows?" Aramis asked, after he had finished drinking.

"His lips aren't bluish anymore, there is no cold sweat on his face and his breathing has changed in a more regular way." He told him.

"The pain potion …" Aramis mumbled. "We should have given it him earlier."

"We did, Aramis. He drank it backwards." Porthos sighed.

"You are right, my bloody head is doing that right now. Where's d'Artagnan?" Aramis asked.

"Sleeping next to you like a hedgehog. I wanted to give him a pain potion too, but after I helped him to lay down, he fall asleep at once."

"Oh, how is he?"

"He will life! He waited as a brave soldier next to Athos and you, while I was outside and ate something. His ankle still hurts him and his palms are a bloody mess." Porthos snorted. "I have no idea how he managed to give Athos the broth earlier."

"He's indeed a brave boy." Aramis smirked.

"The doctor shall examine him too." Porthos snorted.

Aramis laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes trying to ignore his spinning head. Worry was plastered all over his face and Porthos wished he could do something to wipe it all away.

"I know you are concerned, Aramis, but you know what. Athos will survive. I'm sure of it." Porthos stated firmly.

"When he stops worrying about his right arm. You know it's not a good sign, when he doesn't feel his right hand." Aramis sighed.

"He says it's numb. It will be the swelling." Porthos answered shortly and looked over to Athos, who had his eyes still closed and were breathing now more even, a clear sign that he was asleep.

"And if it's not …" Aramis asked with closed eyes fearing that thought.

Porthos sighed.

"Then we will deal with it as well, as we always do. But I'm certain it's the swelling. Sleep now Aramis." He ordered and was astonished when Aramis obeyed.

 _I know what you fear the most Aramis, I fear it too. Athos' reaction …_

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	36. Chapter 36

**_Merry Christmas Eve to all of you lovely readers!_**

 ** _I hope you have a wonderful time with your family & friends and can relax at this special time of the year._**

 ** _Here is my next chapter as a small Christmas present. I hope you will like it._**

 ** _I want to say thank you so much to Beth who has corrected already so much of my written text. She is doing such a wonderful job. Get better very soon. Sending a big hug your way xx_**

 ** _I want to thank Tricia as well, who helped me this afternoon with proofreading the last paragraph of this chapter. xx_**

 ** _Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To_** ** _Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Poor Athos, worrying about his arm. It will get better, it just takes time. I can't imagine you will make Athos lose his arm! I want Nurse Porthos to look after me next time I am poorly. He can lie next to me and cuddle me to keep me warm.I hope Treville gets the answers he wants from the Cardinal but I doubt it._** ** _Excellent chapter. Looking forward to the next one."_**

 ** _Thank you so much. You might find out about Athos' arm in this chapter … I will call and ask nurse Porthos if I can give you his phone number, but I am sure he is more than happy to help. I can understand why you want to have him as your nurse._**

 ** _Tréville & the Cardinal … well … I can only say let's wait and see. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _So Louis too has his suspicions that the cardinal sent a 2nd letter. Now his headache has once again become Trevilles. LOL!  
Now they fear Athos may not be able to pick up a sword again because of numbness in his hand. _****_But I believe he'll eventually recover."_**

 ** _Thank you so much. Hmm about Athos' arm … (well you know that I try to write in canon ;-)). Oh yes, poor Tréville, I fear his headache will increase in the following chapter …_**

* * *

 **Chapter 36**

When Doctor Lemay returned to the garrison in the evening he wasn't sure in what condition he would find his severely wounded patient. That he hadn't been called earlier was a good sign, but nevertheless he gave the young man a fifty fifty chance of surviving or dying. He had seen other patients with theses wounds who hadn't survived and he didn't want to give his friends and the Captain false hope. The fact that Athos' body had already been weakened from the earlier attack didn't bode well. He still had the swordsman's pale face with the now barely visible freckles and the bloodshed eyes in his mind, the slightly bluish lips and the cold, clammy skin, while his whole body had shivered. Combined with the huge amount of blood that Athos had lost over the past two days that was not a good sign.

When he reached the courtyard he slowly dismounted his horse and took his medical bag. A Musketeer, who introduced himself as Henri to Lemay appeared and accompanied him to the infirmary, where he softly knocked and then opened the door for him to enter it, while retreating himself.

Lemay looked into the dim light of the infirmary where it was warm. A fire was burning in a stove near the window. Some candles had been lit. Three men were lying in beds, sleeping, with Porthos sitting wide awake between the two beds, where Aramis and Athos were resting. Aramis' hand was lying protectively on Athos' left shoulder.

Porthos stood up and walked over to him, when the doctor entered. His face looked tired and Lemay imagined he could see some sadness around his eye wrinkles.

"How are they?" Lemay asked quietly while trying to get a better look at the most severely wounded Musketeer.

"Still alive." Porthos muttered.

Lemay wasn't sure if the strong Musketeer was trying to joke to ease the tense atmosphere. Then Porthos added:

"Athos seems to be a little better, Aramis is still fighting with his concussion and d'Artagnan has a sprained ankle and bruised hands."

"So another patient we need to worry about."

Lemay said, whilst looking over to the young man who was sleeping in a third bed. Then he turned all his attention back to Athos and approached his bed, while putting his bag on the floor. He stepped between the two beds and sat on the small stool.

Then he started a rough examination without saying much, recognising that Porthos' eyes followed each of his moves: First Lemay lifted his own right hand and placed it on Athos' forehead feeling to see if the clammy skin had gone by now. He watched Athos' face in the dim light closely. His eyelids fluttered slightly, but his patient didn't wake up. His breathing was calmer, less rapid and shallow than before. His lips were chapped, but the bluish colour had gone.

 _That's a good sign._

Then he removed several layers of sheets and blankets from Athos' body to reach for his left hand and put it in his warm hand feeling for the pulse on his wrist. After several seconds of silence he looked up and talked to Porthos, who was waiting anxiously.

"His forehead and hands are still cold, but the cold sweat has gone." He mumbled more to himself. "His pulse is still fast."

After that he started to entangle Athos from more of the sheets to finally reach his shirt. The swordsman didn't moan or wake this time, when he lifted it and placed his palm on his patient's chest. Waiting for about a minute to feel his heartbeat.

Porthos waited patiently, he had stepped back next to Athos' other side, ready to help with whatever the doctor needed.

"His heart isn't beating so fast anymore. Thank God." Lemay said. Then he turned to Porthos, who was standing on Athos' right side and addressed him:

"I will need your help to check on his wounds. I need to know if infection has set in or not. Tell me Porthos how was he over the past hours?"

Lemay stood up and walked to his bag and opened it, searching for some instruments, salves and fresh bandages while Porthos updated him:

"He was in a great deal of distress, but your pain potion helped and we gave him broth each time he woke up. I helped him earlier with the chamberpot and now he's been sleeping for over one hour without moaning in his sleep. I hope it's a good sign. Earlier we raised his feet, because Aramis said it would help him."

"Aramis was right. I have read some articles about patients who felt better when their feet were elevated after suffering from shock, but I have no experience with it." He mumbled. "Has Athos spoken to you?"

"Yes he has. He's worried about his right arm."

"We will come to that." Lemay quietly said. "Was he confused when he awoke or could he remember what happened?" He asked further.

"I would say a little confused about the timeline and what happened during the attack, but he remembered several things and could speak to us."

"Good." Lemay said again more to himself. "I'll need your help now, Porthos. We have to check the healing of his wounds. I have to make sure that they are not infected. First his thigh then his arm. We must make sure that the rest of his body is still wrapped in blankets, when we have a look at those. He's still very cold."

Lemay nodded at Porthos, who now stepped in front of the bed, removed the additional pillows and more of the blanket and sheets, that covered Athos' lower body and legs. He gently freed Athos' left leg and thigh from several sheets, while covering his upper body with other sheets and gently touching his friend's cold left hand, he pressed it for a moment. He felt Athos weakly pressing his hand with his fingers back, but when he lifted his eyes towards Athos' face, the swordsman's eyes stayed closed.

"Are you awake Athos?" He whispered quietly. "Doctor Lemay is here to examine you." Athos stayed silent.

Porthos waited several seconds but nothing. Had he only imagined Athos pressing his hand? He wasn't sure. He hoped so much for a sign of life from his brother that didn't consist of deep breathing or loud moaning. He gently massaged his friend's hand with circling his thumb over it, before putting it down again under the sheets.

"We will have to remove his breeches." Lemay said. "I need to have a better look at the wound. "Let's hurry, I think he's showing the first signs of waking. His eyelids are moving and I prefer to check on his wounds while he's still asleep."

"Why?" Porthos asked. "I think it's better when he's awake. He could tell us about the pain." Porthos added.

"Because he will most probably fight me. Removing the bandages and touching the wounds will be painful even with the pain potion you gave him earlier."

"He will fight when he's asleep as well." Porthos said unsatisfied about the instructions of the doctor, but followed them. He gently started to remove Athos' breeches, so that they could more easily reach his wounded thigh.

A loud moan escaped Athos' mouth, when he pulled on the cloth and he cursed himself inwardly that his movement had hurt his brother.

"Sorry, _mon ami_." He said quickly looking up, before continuing to manhandle his friend's left leg out of the breeches.

Lemay stepped next to Athos' face and looked at his sleeping patient.

"Athos, it's doctor Lemay. I'm here to examine your wounds. Can you hear me? Are you awake?"

No answer, no blinking with his eyes. Athos was still in between sleeping and waking. Lemay could see that Athos' eyelids moved slightly again, but other than that he could only hear his deep breathing.

"Alright he's still in the waking stage. Let's hurry, Porthos."

Lemay moved next to Porthos and started with some swift and fast moves to loosen the bandage around Athos' thigh. Porthos could hear Athos' breathing changing and then he noticed that his friend was moving his right leg under the sheets. Trying to free it from them. He heard Athos' breathing changing and hoped that he would finally open his eyes, but he didn't do him this favour. Instead he started to moan more and more and tried to curl up on his left side.

 _Where am I? I want to sleep. I'm so tired. Who is talking to me. I can hear voices … Go away … I want to sleep … Who's touching me? Why I am in so much pain?_

 _Aramis … is that you … I want to sleep … I …_

 _No, wait ... it's Porthos … with someone else …_

 _Does it really matter … Go away … leave me alone … arghhh ..._

"Porthos, hold his right leg down!" Lemay shouted. "I can't work like this. If he continues moving around he'll most probably tear his stitches again." He added frustratedly.

"I really think it's better if we wait until he's awake." Porthos protested now a little more loudly, while gently trying to hold Athos' right leg down to stop him from lying on his left side. "Doctor he doesn't know what's going on, he will fight us and it will only upset him … I doubt that's such a good idea in his state of health … I know him …" Porthos tried to explain in a more neutral tone, trying to convince the doctor that his idea was not very wise. Another moan escaped Athos' lips and he bent towards his ailing brother's ear and tried to calm him with soothing words. "Shh … Athos, calm." He tried again, but Athos didn't hear the voice of his brother.

 _Porthos, is this you? Why am I so cold … so tired … why am I in so much pain …?_

 _Whoever is touching me … tell him to stop … leave me alone … I … arghhh ..._

Athos still confused mind only registered that something was wrong. He felt a sharp pain in his left leg and for a moment he was, in his thoughts, back on the floor, trying to reach Aramis and fighting for his life. When Porthos tried to calm him and pressed his right leg down, it only frightened and agitated him more.

 _Go away … I need help … I need to save Aramis … I … arghh … everywhere pain … my chest … why does my chest hurts so much …?_

Athos felt an itching pain in his chest, his heart thundered under his rib cage and he suddenly felt that he was not able to breathe any longer. He opened his mouth wide in order to draw in more oxygen, moaning and fighting as best as he could. He screamed out loud, when Lemay removed a part of the bandage that had stuck on some dried blood around the stitched wound.

It was this moment when Aramis sluggishly opened his eyes. Feeling the distress of his friend he moved his hand from his left shoulder onto his chest, feeling with his palm Athos' fast heartbeat. Still fighting with his own hurting head and dizziness each time he moved it, he only managed to cry out loud in order to help Athos:

"Stop it!"

His loud voice boomed through the infirmary and made Lemay stumble backwards irritated by the loud command. Porthos let go of Athos' leg at once and drew nearer to his confused brother on his right hand side, sitting down on the wooden chair he whispered gently into Athos' ear to calm him again.

"Do you want to kill him?" Aramis now swayed dangerously while sitting up on his bed and glared angrily to Lemay.

"I thought it would be better to check on him while he's still asleep."

"His heart is beating like a galloping horse in his chest. He's a soldier, for God's sake. He's confused and doesn't know what's going on! He will always fight in such a moment. You should know better!" Aramis angrily chided the doctor.

With all the strength he had left he got up and managed to sit on the small stool next to Athos' other side and softly stroked over Athos' hair, calming him, with his melodic voice not letting his eyes leave his friend's face for one second.

"I told you to wake him first." Porthos now angrily glared towards the Doctor too, while Aramis didn't stop talking to Athos:

"Athos, it's me Aramis. You are safe. Come on, open your eyes for me. I know you can hear me. Open your eyes for me." Aramis whispered over and over in his friend's ear. "I need to see that angry glare on me." He gently mocked.

 _Aramis … you are alive … that was only a bad dream … a nightmare … it was nothing but a horrible nightmare … I made up … but why is then my leg hurting so much … my … I need to know … I have to see … I wish they would go away and leave me alone … so tired … why can't they let me sleep …?_

Slowly, very slowly Athos heartbeat calmed, but the sick man didn't open his eyes, instead he tried to curl upon his left side, still gasping for air. Aramis looked over to Porthos and the strong man understood at once. He stood up and helped Athos in a more comfortable position on his left side, while Aramis continued stroking over his head.

"Shhh ... everything will be alright." He continued his litany.

Lemay looked at his ailing patient and the two Musketeers helping him to calm down again from the distance and waited patiently. Next to him the young Gascon had woken up with a start and looked astonished at what was happening around him. Seeing Porthos and Aramis taking care of Athos, he decided to remain on his bed and stay quiet in order not to disturb them.

After what felt like an eternity for Aramis and Porthos, but didn't last longer than five minutes, Athos started to breathe more evenly and tried to move onto his back again. Porthos gently rolled him into his previous position, while seeing Athos fight to open his eyes. He blinked several more times and finally opened them. Sluggishly and exhausted he looked into Aramis' brown eyes. The marksman had bent more and more over Athos' face making sure that he was getting enough air. Now he moved back to give Athos some space.

"Where …?" Athos slurred confused.

"Infirmary." Porthos said from the other side.

"What ...?" Athos blinked and looked into Aramis' eyes.

"You were assaulted. Do you remember that?"

"Hmm …" Athos mumbled, while closing his eyes again.

"Stay with me."

Aramis encouraged him and gently stroked over Athos' left cheek with his thumb, forcing the sick man to open his eyes again.

"Why do … feel … like … fought?" Athos gasped, while glaring confusedly into Aramis' eyes.

"Because you just fought the doctor."

Aramis grinned, putting his palm back on Athos' chest and finding that his friend's heartbeat had slowed down again. A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"That was not … my intention …" Athos whispered, while moving his head to see who else was with him.

"I know my friend. I guess you simply didn't know what was going on."

Aramis whispered into his ear, while still stroking over his friend's thick curls. Athos leaned into his touch and for a moment they both stayed like that. The medic patiently waited for Athos to come back to his senses. In the background they could hear Lemay mumbling an apology, while Porthos slowly stood up and started to walk restless around the room.

 _I should have stopped Lemay. I knew that was coming, I had no idea that it would agitate Athos so much._

Athos followed Porthos' strange walk back and forward around the infirmary and frowned:

"Porthos, what are you doing? Stop it, please." Athos whispered.

Porthos stopped and sat back on the chair he had left seconds earlier.

"How do you feel my friend?" Aramis gently asked as he watched each of Athos' facial expressions.

"Like waking from a nightmare." Athos muttered.

"The doctor is here to check on your wounds. Do you want him to continue?" Aramis gently asked, looking now over to Lemay who had stayed silent for the past minutes while watching as Aramis calmed Athos.

"Can you tell me if I will be able to use my arm again? I only feel it …" He paused and gulped: "I ... my right hand feels numb." Athos barely audible whispered, trying to sit more upright in his bed, but stopped when he felt a burning pain in his thigh.

"I will have a look now. First your thigh, if that's alright with you." Lemay told him.

Athos nodded and Lemay continued with the examination he had stopped minutes ago. Aramis tried to change his position on the small stool, but swayed dangerously.

"You should lie down again, Aramis."

Porthos chided him, but the stubborn medic ignored him. Porthos rolled his eyes, but was glad in the next moment, when Athos felt another itching pain in his thigh and gasping for air, that Aramis was next to him and comforting him.

"Easy, it's alright." Aramis appeased his ailing friend.

With his fingers Lemay carefully probed the stitches, while searching in the dim light for any signs of pus.

"Porthos can you hand me a candle, please." The Doctor asked the strong man and the latter hurried next to his side.

Athos felt Lemay's fingers probing at one and the same spot for several seconds, bowing his head further down and mumbling something he couldn't understand.

"What's wrong? Is the wound infected?" Athos asked now more awake and coherent.

"No, this part is still sore, but I can't see any signs of infection. Your Captain is a good sewer." Lemay added, looking up in his patient's face.

Athos frowned:

"The Captain?" He mumbled.

"Yes, he helped to sew your thigh the second time. His stitches are nearly as neat as Aramis'." Lemay explained to his patient.

"I don't recall that?" Athos mumbled and searched Aramis' eyes.

"You were in a great deal of pain. It will come back to you later."

Aramis softly explained, seeing that Athos was trying to free his left hand from under the blanket and was searching his way to Aramis. He felt the cold hand in his own. It was a clear sign that his friend didn't feel comfortable with the examination and that he was afraid about what the doctor would tell him regarding his arm injury.

Lemay spread some fresh salve on the stitches and then asked Porthos to rebind the wound with a fresh bandage while they changed positions. Porthos followed his instructions and after he had finished, he gently helped Athos back into his breeches and put his left leg under the sheets and blanket again.

Athos had closed his eyes, but was still wide awake, pressing Aramis' fingers in a firm grip that only the marksman knew about.

"Alright Athos, I will have now a look at your arm. Porthos can you help me to sit our patient in a more upright position?" Lemay turned towards the streetfighter, who was already standing on the right side of Athos' head. Carefully he put his hands under Athos' armpits.

"Are you ready?" He asked his friend and when Athos nodded he heaved him into a higher position. Exhausted from the pain in his leg and the movement his body had to endure Athos let his head drop on his friend's chest.

Porthos could feel the still cold forehead of his friend through the thin fabric of his shirt and the soft warm breath on his skin.

"It's alright, nearly finished."

Porthos whispered, while stroking gently over his friend's head, now feeling worried because this behaviour was so much unlike Athos. Usually Athos sought distance when he didn't feel well. The doctor paused with what he was doing and looked over to his patient. The fact that the soldier was behaving like that, when before he had battled him irritated Lemay as well.

"Athos are you in any kind of pain?"

"My arm and leg are hurting me, the leg much more." Athos said between gritted teeth. "I want to know about my arm."

Athos whispered and waited until Porthos had put some more pillows behind his back. He felt Porthos' arms around him gently guiding his head back on the pillows and exhaustedly he leaned on them. His eyes were now closed again, while he breathed through the pain.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Earlier at the palace_**

Captain Tréville's and Cardinal Richelieu's noses nearly touched. Two angry blue eyes stared into two widened grey eyes. For a moment Richelieu wasn't sure if the Captain of the Musketeers would punch him in his face, but he wouldn't be surprised. Tréville was furious and he had every right to fear for the life of his Lieutenant.

Richelieu had ignored a direct order of the King, instead of going to the garrison or sending a Red Guard to ask Tréville to come to his chambers, he had left the palace in a hurry after he had been informed that Don Fernando wanted to talk to him. This had been a matter which he had to handle first and as fast as possible. If Don Fernando was found and arrested by a Musketeer his plan would have failed.

Richelieu finally had enough of the angry stare contest and looked at his desk.

"What do you want, Tréville? I am busy with church affairs and I have to celebrate mass in half an hour." Richelieu told the Captain of the Musketeers in his usual nonchalant way, which made Tréville nearly explode.

Tréville had searched for the Cardinal for over two hours from his quarters he had walked over to _Notre-Dame_ hoping to find him there, but the Cardinal seemed to have disappeared. After walking to some other places in Paris, where he assumed Richelieu could be he had returned for a last try to _Le Louvre_ , to finally meet him there. From one of his Musketeers, who had palace guard, he was informed that the Cardinal had just arrived several minutes ago in a hurry and he hadn't looked delighted.

"You were supposed to meet with me by the order of the King!"

Tréville ignored Richelieu's question and shouted angrily at him, his hands were pressed on Richelieu's desk and the Cardinal could see that the knuckles of his hands had already turned white. His black hat he had tossed earlier angrily on the Cardinal's desk, not caring about if it would disturb important papers. The Captain of the Musketeers had to restrain himself and the Cardinal knew that it was about time for an apology.

"I assure you Captain, I had to fulfill important matters for the King of France, otherwise I would have already met with you. How is Athos?"

Richelieu walked several steps away from his desk, so that there was now more distance between him and the furious Captain.

Tréville removed his hands from the desk:

"Not good!"

"I am sorry to hear that." Richelieu answered quietly.

"Into what kind of danger have you sent one of my men?" Tréville shouted angrily.

"Captain, I assure you, I had no idea that this would be a trap. To be honest I wasn't aware that you would send your Lieutenant for this simple letter."

"He volunteered. You said you would only need one man. Why didn't you send one of your Red Guards instead?" Tréville didn't stop asking. "What kind of letter have you sent to Don Fernando?" Tréville shouted again, ignoring the previous words of the Cardinal.

"Captain, it was only an invitation from the Queen … nothing more …" Richelieu tried to calm the agitated officer.

"So if it was only a simple message, why is my Lieutenant now fighting for his life? Are you aware that he was attacked a second time? Someone wants to see him dead. So either it is about this message he should take to _Château de Fontainebleau_ or he has witnessed something he shouldn't have witnessed." Tréville shouted pointing with his finger angrily at Richelieu's chest.

The Cardinal moved another step backwards not wanting to be pushed by the seasoned soldier. Curiously Tréville tried to observe each of Richelieu's facial expressions. He was trying to read his mind, but it didn't work. He believed the Cardinal, that it hadn't been his plan that Athos would get hurt, but he sensed that Richelieu was lying about something else.

"Captain, I assure you, if I had known that this was a dangerous mission I would have told you. Nevertheless Athos is a soldier, a King's Musketeer, it is his duty to serve the King and Queen of France and you of all must know that your soldiers can get hurt." Richelieu answered now with an acid tone in his voice.

"Why send a Musketeer then? Why ask explicitly for only one Musketeer to deliver the message from the Queen? Why not send her herald? Tell me, your Eminence! Explain it to me! You know more about this Don Fernando and his stay in France then you want to let me know. Now would be a good time to inform me. I won't leave before I receive an answer." Tréville added angrily.

Richelieu sighed aloud and walked back to his desk where he seated himself and asking Tréville to sit at the opposite with a simple gesture by his hand. Tréville ignored his invitation, but waited standing in front of his desk too angry to follow an order from this treacherous churchman and too cautious to trust one of his explanations.

 _Two hours of searching. I have enough of this hide and seek game. He knows something. He knows more than he wants to tell me. Do I have to expect a third attack on Athos' life? Is it something personal and has it nothing to do with this damn letter? But why has then this Juan tried to kill Athos? It can't be something personal ... Will Athos still be alive when I return? He has to be …_

Tréville felt an aching pain in his head while all these thoughts were racing through his mind.

"Captain, you have to believe me, if I had known that this was such a dangerous mission, I would have told you. I thought that one man would be enough. I haven't send any other letter to Don Fernando. I wasn't even aware that Don Fernando was in France. I only found out when the Queen told me."

"So why was Athos attacked?" Tréville interrupted the Cardinal impatiently.

"I can only assume that perhaps bandits thought he was delivering something important back to the King." Richelieu answered slowly.

"Come on, they wouldn't go after him and try to kill him within garrison walls. They wouldn't be that stupid to risk their lives in a place full of soldiers." Tréville answered, placing his hands in his hips.

"Maybe it is something personal and hasn't anything to do with the letter and Don Fernando at all?" Richelieu told him.

"Ha! Good try!" Tréville snorted. "So why is one of Don Fernando's soldiers now dead, he was shot when he tried to kill two of my soldiers. Where is the link between my Lieutenant and a Spanish soldier? He has never been to Spain."

"I don't know Captain, I guess it will be the best explained when I question Don Fernando." Richelieu suggested.

Tréville who was realising that he wouldn't get any further answers from Richelieu decided that he was wasting his precious time.

"Oh, believe me, I will do that. He left the château and I assume that he is somewhere here in Paris. I will let my soldiers search for him and I will send some more Musketeers to _Château de Fontainebleau._ They shall bring Dona Ynes-Mancía here for further questioning."

Tréville grabbed his hat, placed it on his head, turned around and left without waiting for an answer. He had enough of being lied to by the Cardinal. Richelieu looked after him. When Tréville had left his office, he stood up and started to pace to and fro in the large room.

 _This can't be true … if he continues his search he will find out … Don Fernando has to vanish and I am not sure how much Dona Ynes-Mancía knows … ohhhh I knew it … it was a mistake … a great mistake … Of course it could have worked … but … Athos being hurt or injured was never the plan … oh this bungler … I warned him ..._

Outside Tréville had to rein in his emotions. Oh how much he had wished to punch the Cardinal in his face, but it would not bring him any answers. He had doubted that Richelieu would tell him more, but now he had to set his own plan in motion. He gave two of his Musketeers, who had been waiting outside the chambers of the Cardinal a sign to come over to him. Now he instructed them to observe the Cardinal and follow him through the streets of Paris, informing him where he went. He would most probably lead him to Don Fernando. Threatening to find and arrest Don Fernando by his own, Tréville now felt sure the Cardinal would lead him to this Spanish nobleman. He had no proof, but if he had to guess, Richelieu had met within the past hour with Don Fernando. But why? What was this all about?

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _Note:_**

 ** _I am really planning on finishing this story. I have reached now chapter 43 and I don't want to write more than 50 chapters! I hope it will be less to be honest. So yes, I am nearly at the end of this story. Most of the now written text hasn't been proofread yet, so just give me a little time and don't wonder when I probably won't be able to post regularly each Saturday. xx Kira_**


	37. Chapter 37

**_Thank you for reading and leaving a review!_**

 ** _Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _So poor Athos is still suffering, as well as Aramis and D'Artagnan. I don't know how Treville didn't punch the Cardinal in the face. I would have! Looking forward to the next chapter."_**

 ** _Sorry, but yes all three of them are suffering. Even if Tréville is angry and worried about Athos he still can control his feelings, that makes him a good Captain. Thank you for your review xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I know I wished you a Merry Xmas over at Archive but it doesn't hurt to repeat it. I recently came home from Xmas Eve services. Earlier was out for an early dinner at my girlfriend's family and relatives where we exchanged gifts. Tomorrow will be out with my uncle and cousin for a gathering and once again gift giving. I'm pooped already. LOL! I'll be back at work Tues. and probably won't be able to move a muscle.  
Anyway, I really, really wish Treville had punched the cardinal. The man deserved it. I do hope eventually the truth comes out and the captain can give Richelieu a well deserved tongue lashing. That is if he can't tell the king what was behind the cardinal's actions that resulted in Athos getting hurt. Perhaps it will have to be something only shared between the cardinal and Treville. But I hope the captain will tell his men about it."_**

 ** _Thank you for your Christmas wishes. No it never hurts to repeat it. I hope you had a wonderful time with your family and friends._**

 ** _As much as I agree with you that Richelieu deserved to be punched. It would brought Tréville only trouble. The Captain knows how to control his feelings in the right moment. Well … you will find out about the truth … it's complicated … as you might have figured out yet. Tréville will always be a father to his men. He cares deeply for all of them. His job right now is to find out the truth and then to act wisely …_**

 ** _Hope I haven't spoiled you now …_** ** _Thank you for your review. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Many thanks to Beth for proofreading most of this chapter and to Tricia, who corrected the last part of this chapter. (You see how I am writing this story. Some plots come first, some I put in later). Without the both of them I would not have been able to publish this story here !_**

* * *

 **Chapter 37**

 ** _In the infirmary_**

 **"** **Athos are you in any kind of pain?"**

 **"** **My arm and leg are hurting me, the leg much more." Athos said between gritted teeth. "I want to know about my arm."**

 **Athos whispered and waited until Porthos had put some more pillows behind his back. He felt Porthos' arms around him gently guiding his head back on the pillows and exhaustedly he leaned on them. His eyes were now closed again, while he breathed through the pain.**

"I will have a look now, but I warn you it might hurt even more than your leg." Lemay said. "Scream when you have to. It will help you to endure the pain."

Athos nodded, while pressing Aramis' hand even tighter.

"Everything will be alright." Aramis mumbled in his ear.

Lemay again bent over his patient and opened the knot from the scarf with which they had fixed Athos' arm. When the protecting sling was removed Athos gasped, but didn't scream. Porthos could see a layer of sweat forming on his friend's face, when the cloth was finally gone from his upper arm Lemay started to unroll the bandage.

Aramis could hear Athos' breathing changing.

"Calm, Athos."

He tried to reach him, but Athos seemed to be in his own world. His eyes now wide open, his breathing shallow again, he looked at each move Lemay made, until the bandage was finally removed. A breath of relief escaped his mouth, when the bandage was finally gone.

Lemay paused and looked at his patient.

"Do you feel any difference? More pain?" Lemay asked.

"No. Less." Athos mumbled.

Athos was a little confused, because suddenly the immense pain which he had felt pulsing in his upper arm was gone, nevertheless he could still feel a pain, but it wasn't as bad as before. He tried to move his fingers but couldn't.

"Hmm …" Lemay looked closer at the wound.

"What?" Porthos asked now for Athos.

"I believe … yes it could be ... the bandage was wrapped too tightly around your arm and caused you additional pain, I'm sorry for that, we'll have to be more careful when we rebandage it. You have to tell me about the pain level then." Lemay explained.

Athos only nodded, not really registering what Lemay was referring to, but too focused on trying to move his fingers which didn't work. Frustratedly his eyes searched Aramis' then he asked:

"Why can't I move my fingers?" Confusion was written all over his voice, which vibrated oddly, while he tried to suppress his fear that he wouldn't be able to use his sword arm any more.

Lemay paused and looked up.

"There is a strong swelling in your upper arm Athos. Most probably that's the cause that you are not able to move your hand and fingers right now. I need to check on your stitches and the wound for any signs of infection, but I warn you, it will hurt."

"Go ahead." Athos ordered with gritted teeth.

As gently as he could Lemay started to touch the stitched wound. Athos shortly hissed when the pressure from Lemay's fingers agitated his wounded skin, but then he pulled himself together and tried to stay as stoic and calm as he could. Lemay checked the wound as fast as he could, then he put Athos' arm again on his chest but waited before putting some salve on the wound.

"I can see no signs of infection, Athos. You are very lucky." He added cautiously.

Athos huffed:

"How can I be lucky, when I cannot use my hand and arm properly?"

"You are lucky, because you are still alive." Lemay looked into the eyes of his patient.

Athos gulped, searching for the right words to answer on this, but when he raised his head and looked down at his right arm, which was now resting immobile and pulsing on his chest, he forgot about what he wanted to say. He slowly inspected the stitched wound at his upper arm, the red rimmed edges where the needle had pierced his skin and he could see the dark thread, holding the open skin together. He felt sick at the sight of it, but he swallowed his saliva down again.

It was not the first wound he had seen on his own body and he doubted that it would be the last. His head was swirling and throbbing and he felt his heart palpitating in his chest, which he tried to calm while he tried to sort his thoughts. His fingers of his left hand pressed Aramis' even more tightly and the latter gently pressed back, remaining silent, whilst realising what Athos was just doing and comforting him through all his pain. Athos was in turmoil, his thoughts were chasing through his mind.

 _How can I tell Lemay that I need my arm to be a Musketeer, to be a soldier, to be a swordfighter … what will I have if I cannot use it anymore … I won't be able to remain a Musketeer … everything would be taken away from me … I need to know …_

Athos forced himself to ask the question the answer of which could change his life permanently from one moment to the next.

"Will I be able …" He paused, feeling the emotions boiling in his head and trying to control them. He knew that fear was written all over his pale face and as hard as he tried to hide it, he knew he couldn't hide it from Aramis and Porthos. They knew him too well. "Will my arm heal again?" He began again.

Feeling the tension now hanging in the air and feeling the immediate wish to flee the room like a wild deer and hide somewhere in a dark corner to cope with whatever came next, but his whole body was too weak to go anywhere and he felt so tired.

Lemay, observed Athos' facial expressions carefully and seeing that his patient was fighting with himself by asking the question stayed silent for a while. Then he gently lifted Athos' right arm in his hand and put more salve on the wounded spots. Athos flinched, while waiting for an answer. The doctor laid it down again on his chest, while softly pressing his fingers hoping for any reaction of his patient's right hand, but the cold fingers didn't press back, the movement he had hoped for didn't come. He sighed inwardly, while looking into Athos' pale face, searching his sad eyes.

As a doctor he had to state the unpleasant truth as well as the tidings of joy when someone would recover from an illness or injury. His eyes left his patient's green eyes for a brief moment, searching for another chair. When he found one he walked over to it picked it up and carried it over to his patient and sat next to Porthos, well aware that now not only Athos' eyes were following him, but Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan's as well. They all were holding their breath with their frightened and injured brother while waiting for the answer.

Lemay sat down, searching Athos' eyes and gently putting gently a hand on Athos' injured arm.

"Athos, I won't lie to you. The truth is I don't know it." Lemay paused observing his patient's eyes carefully, who was fighting obviously with his emotions and his tiredness.

"Is there any chance at all?" Athos whispered.

"First, and now I repeat myself. You are very lucky that you are still alive. I've seen other patients with these wounds who didn't make it."

Lemay could hear the other Musketeers breathing deeply, but no reaction from the swordsman and for a moment the doctor wasn't sure if Athos was still listening or simply too spent with the information he had just given him. Carefully Lemay looked over to Aramis, who hadn't let go of Athos' hand, but he nodded to give him a sign to continue with his explanation. His eyes were telling him:

 _Even when he doesn't listen to you, we are, and we can explain it later to him._

"Second and that's another very good sign you feel pain in your injured arm. The pain went less after I removed the bandage and that tells me that some of your nerves in that arm are still intact." He paused while noticing that Athos' eyes started to droop.

 _Of course, what did I expect, the blood loss, the immense pain my patient is in, the little rest his body has had over the past hours has left him exhausted and tired._

"Maybe we should stop, Athos? You should rest, I shall let you sleep." He carefully told his patient, while telling Porthos to help lift Athos' arm and to begin to rewrap a fresh bandage around the upper arm, keeping in his mind this time to not wrap it too tightly and listen for each reaction and slight moan, which escaped Athos' mouth when re-adjusting a fresh bandage around the upper arm. When he had finished, he again placed the arm on his chest feeling his patient's erratic heartbeat under his palm. Waiting and observing the pain level which was reflected in Athos' face.

Athos fought to open his red-rimmed eyes. The doctor could see the green colour more intensified in them, while the soldier forced himself to look at him.

"Please, continue … I need … to know …" He told him exhaustion more than evident in his voice.

 _Why can't he simply say yes … or no … I want to know … but then I don't want to know … My arm is hurting again, even when they lift it as gently as possible … is that a good sign … or is that the sign that I will lose my arm … but he hasn't said anything about amputation … that's at least something … or he simply fears that I won't survive when he tells me … the truth now._

 _Damn … my head is aching again … no … he would have told me … he is honest with me … I can sense it …_

"The truth is Athos, I cannot tell you for now. The dagger could have injured important muscles. Do you recall that you could use your hand after you were injured?" He cautiously asked.

 _Important muscles … this would mean … that I won't be able … to fight anymore … no … please don't let it be true … make we wake from this horrible nightmare … I can't take anymore …_

 _What is happening to me? Who wants to see me dead? I … Wait he has asked me something? What was it. If I remember that using my injured arm … why can't I recall, why is my head hurting and throbbing so much again …_

Athos head was spinning and he could concentrate no longer, the words the doctor told him reached his confused mind more and more from a greater distance. He had only heard he couldn't tell.

"Athos?" Aramis softly asked, feeling his friend's anxiety and confusion.

"I don't know …" Athos slurred, feeling his eyes drooping again and feeling the need to have Aramis' presence next to him, he pressed his friend's hand tighter, thus giving him a sign to speak for him.

"Doctor, we don't know for sure. He did fire my pistol so it could be that he has used his right arm and hand, but he could have shot with his left hand as well." Aramis stated cautiously.

Athos had closed his eyes again. The pain in his arm started to pulse further and he could feel his heartbeat palpitating loudly again in his ears.

 _What's happening with me? Why can't I concentrate anymore? I feel so tired … I want to know, but if he has no answer … I … so tired … need to sleep … can't concentrate … my eyelids are too heavy … so tired ..._

"So tired." He mumbled, then he closed his eyes again and drifted off, finally losing the fight about wanting to know if he could use his arm and hand again.

"Sleep, _mon ami_." Aramis softly whispered and stroked over his friend's hair, then he looked over to Lemay.

"What are his chances?" He asked bluntly.

"Aramis, I told you already, I cannot tell. It's too early. We have to wait until the swelling has gone. It could block his hand and fingers and cause the feeling of the numbness. Either way, even if his arm wasn't injured too badly, he will need a great deal of practice to use it again."

"So there is still a chance that he will be able to move his arm, hand and fingers again?"

D'Artagnan now asked from his bed, where he had been sitting quietly and observing the examination and the ongoing talk, feeling so helpless because he couldn't do anything to spare his mentor this whole ordeal.

"Yes, of course." Lemay said. "I am simply not one who gives false promises, when I don't know for sure."

Lemay stood up and checked on his sleeping patient. Athos was deep asleep again and he didn't move or moan when Lemay finally put the scarf around his injured arm and fastened it behind his neck. When he finished he felt for his patient's heartbeat which had slowed down slightly.

"But sometimes a word of hope can help healing an injured man faster." Porthos mumbled bitterly, while helping to cover Athos' whole upper body again with his warm blanket.

"And what if he isn't able to use it again, Porthos?" Lemay answered much too sharply for his own liking, stepping back from his patient. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. "But should I lie to him? I have the impression that Athos is a man who prefers the truth over a lie."

"You are right." Porthos mumbled, his head slightly bowed, his eyes now resting on Athos' face. The swordsman eyes were closed and he was breathing more evenly than for hours.

"Doctor, you asked him if he had used the hand after it was injured. Why?" Aramis asked cautiously.

"Because if he did, it would be an indication that his muscles weren't cut, but that the swelling is now making his hand and fingers numb. When we have such a hint, like when he moved his fingers earlier, I would be confident in telling you that his arm will heal properly, with the condition that the wound doesn't get infected, of course." Lemay sighed. "I wish I had better news for all of you. Just concentrate on what I said earlier, the fact that he is still alive is a wonder. You must all have fought hard in giving him broth and tea. Don't give up on that now. Continue with that and help him to recover furthermore."

"I fear that he will stop fighting." Porthos mumbled and stood up exhaustedly, passing the doctor and starting to pace to and fro in the large infirmary.

"Why do you say that, Porthos?" Lemay asked.

"Because I know him, when he starts to fear that he'll not be able to use his right arm, he will tell us that he won't be able to serve as a Musketeer again." He snorted. "And he will lose hope." He added sadly.

"I've heard from soldiers who still were able to fight with one arm." Lemay added cautiously.

"Show me one in our regiment, I don't know one, I only know …"

Porthos paused, gulped and stayed silent, remembering another soldier who had committed suicide, after his arm had to be amputated. They had tried to help him, but in the end they had lost the fight. Porthos felt tears welling up in his eyes and he shook his head to get rid of this horrible memory. The Captain had found Gerard in the stables, he had hung himself.

Aramis felt his head swirling and suddenly feeling exhausted he looked over to Porthos.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it …" He said quietly into the room. "You remember those words you told me back then, Porthos?" He asked. He wished he could stand up, walk over to Porthos and simply hug him, feeling his brother's sadness and exhaustion, but he couldn't.

Porthos stopped pacing around and looked over to Aramis, his hand was still resting in Athos' to comfort him even in his sleep.

"He made it." Porthos whispered.

"One thing is for certain." Leamy interrupted them.

"What?"

"You all will be there for him and fight with him. So stop worrying for now." He smiled, then he walked over to Aramis. "I think I have two more patients I have to check on before I return to the palace. Aramis?" He raised his eyebrow, telling the medic that it was time to lie down again. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Aramis tried to protest.

"Really?" Porthos and d'Artagnan said in unison.

"Well, not really fine, but I'm on the way to getting there."

He tried to laugh, but his head protested and instead he winced and whimpered. Porthos hurried next to him and together with Lemay he helped Aramis back on his own bed.

"So what kind of symptoms do you have? Tell me everything I need to know." Lemay said in a firm voice that told the medic it would be wise to be now honest with the doctor.

"I still have a massive headache and I feel dizzy, when I move too fast. It will pass, doctor, I am sure."

"Hmm … Did you throw up?"

"No!"

Aramis stated firmly, thinking about it he had felt more than once like he would do it the very next moment, but the concern for Athos' well-being had somehow overruled that need and he had braced himself together.

"Let me check your eyes. What about your vision?"

"It was blurred earlier, but now I only see you once and not twice anymore."

"Very funny."

The doctor laughed, sensing that Aramis needed that distraction. Aramis feeled odd suddenly being the center of attention, when his friend was in such a worse state of health, but he knew that Lemay had done all he could for now.

"I can see that your pupils are less enlarged. That's a good sign. You should sleep and a pain potion would do you good." He informed the medic.

"No, I need all my senses." Aramis refused and the doctor knew exactly what he meant. He wanted to be awake if Athos needed him.

While the doctor checked Aramis over and tried to convince him to take another pain potion that he had neglected, Porthos walked back to Athos' bed, sat on the chair he had left earlier and began to watch his sleeping brother. D'Artagnan carefully stood up and limped over to him, without saying another word, he sat down on the chair next to him and put his hand on Porthos' back.

"You know, the doctor, is right." He quietly whispered in order to not wake Athos.

Porthos turned his head towards him and looked with sad eyes into his little brother's.

"I simply wish he was better by now."

"We all do." D'Artagnan softly said. "With our help he will be in no time, I am sure."

In the meantime Lemay had finished checking on Aramis who was now dozing and turned all his attention to his last patient.

"So, would you enlighten me, what has happened to you?" He asked.

"A sprained ankle, it's nothing." D'Artagnan smiled sheepishly at the doctor.

Lemay shook his head.

 _Those Musketeers have other definitions of the words "fine" and "nothing"._

"Do you mind if I judge that for myself?" He laughed to ease the tension.

"Come." Porthos said and helped d'Artagnan back over to his bed.

"What happened?" Lemay asked while he looked at d'Artagnan's bloody hands, telling Porthos to put on some salve and re-bandage them.

"An owl and a tree." D'Artagnan looked ashamedly at the floor.

"Sounds like an adventure."

Lemay teased him, knowing that this would be all the information he would receive from the young man. He bent down over the injured foot and started to examine the swollen ankle, feeling with his fingers over the blue and red bruises and checking for any possible fractures.

D'Artagnan winced twice, but tried to suppress his feelings.

"Good, it's not broken." Lemay told him after several more minutes which the young Gascon had endured by breathing more and more heavily to get rid of the pain.

"I know." D'Artagnan told him.

"Oh?"

"CaptainTréville examined it." He answered a little shyly as an explanation when he noticed the doctor's raised eyebrows.

"Of course, the Captain knows." Lemay mocked him.

Then he continued to check on the swollen ankle and other parts of the leg, while the young Gascon suddenly asked:

"What can we do to help Athos heal faster?"

"What you all are already doing: feeding him with broth, giving him tea, pain potions and most important talk to him and tell him to not give up."

"This is the hardest part." Porthos snorted softly.

"I will return in the morning to check on him again, but if his state of health changes during the night, call me at once." Lemay told them, while he gave Porthos some more instructions how to put on the salve on the foot, renew the bandage and to give the young man a pain potion too.

The protest came at once.

"I don't need one."

"I didn't expect any other answer."

Lemay shook his head, but other than Athos and Aramis he knew that d'Artagnan was the least injured of them all and he believed the young man that he would recover without a pain potion as well.

"Rest and sleep, you will be better in the morning and don't put pressure on your ankle for several days."

He advised the young man. Then he walked over to Athos for the last time he put a hand on Athos' chest and could feel the heartbeat which now was beating steady and slowly under his rib cage.

"Keep him warm, Porthos." He advised the big Musketeer. With a last look on now three sleeping men in their beds he nodded towards the streetfighter, fetched his medic bag and left.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _In the meantime at the Wren_**

 _Will he come? Will he ignore my plea? Has the old Musketeer given him the letter? What am I doing here? I shouldn't stay. I should leave them to their own fate. Why is it suddenly so important to me to know if Athos has survived? Will he believe me when I tell him the whole story?_

Milady had arrived early at the _Wren_. She had found a table in a dark corner, glad that the only light in this tavern were candles. All windows had been shut with wooden boards. Outside the sun was still shining and she knew she had to wait several more hours before Aramis would eventually appear, but she wanted to be prepared, after nearly running into the Cardinal a little earlier and overhearing a very important talk she feared that she might have been discovered. With her knowledge, her life was now in danger too and she didn't like that fact at all.

Her thoughts wandered back to the talk she had eavesdropped on, while pressing herself in a dark corner, next to the window of a shabby inn, where an angry Cardinal had met up with a contrite Don Fernando. It was too obvious to her that the clergyman was furious about the fact that he had to deal with this Spanish nobleman in person.

She had heard him hissing:

 _"_ _What do you want here? Wasn't our agreement clear. No contact here in Paris? So what went wrong?"_ Richelieu had asked Don Fernando.

The Spaniard had apologised but told him how important it had been to meet him in person. What Milady had heard then had surprised her and she suddenly understood what the letter Athos had to deliver to Dona Ynes-Mancía was all about. It was less about the message it contained, but more about the fact who would deliver the letter.

The perfidious plan had nearly made her sick and once again she was reminded that she could have prevented Athos being injured, if she only had reacted faster.

 _No, I couldn't have helped him. I was too late, it was too dangerous._

She angrily shook her head. After she had heard enough, she had stolen herself away, hoping that no one, especially not the Cardinal's men, had seen her.

Once again Milady thought about the day when Athos had been injured. After he had delivered the letter, waited for the response and then left the château again, she had noticed several men on horses following him. For a moment she had considered if she should stay at the château and ignore the fact that Athos was in immediate danger, from what she had overheard earlier, but then her heart had told her that she couldn't ignore those dangerous men. If Athos hadn't been on his own but with his comrades she would have stayed, but he was alone.

She was just about to saddle a horse and follow Athos and these men, when Dona Ynes-Mancía had seen her in the stable. She had started to chat with her about the weather and her upcoming wedding with an Italian nobleman who was wealthy and powerful. She had lost precious time in listening and convincing the noblewoman that she was well enough to ride out with a horse. Finally she had been able to leave, but she had been too late. It had taken her precious time to find those men who were following Athos and by then her husband had already been injured.

At first the bandits Don Fernando had hired thought it was enough. That the arrow in the swordsman's thigh would cause the Musketeer sooner or later to drop dead from his horse and so they decided to let him be, but suddenly one man announced that he still had the letter with him and that they had the order to remove it from him, so they had started to chase after him again.

Milady had waited hidden behind a thick tree trunk after spotting them again, she had left her horse behind so that the other horses would not smell it and gave their owners signs that they were overheard. Milady had cursed inwardly. She could only follow them with a great distance, she witnessed how they found Athos, who was lying like dead in the grass. She had wanted to intervene, but withdrew, when she had seen Athos' brothers arriving and saving him. She knew she couldn't do anything for her husband, but when she realised that one of the hired bandits got away she followed the injured man and, after questioning him, she killed him and removed the important letter which was addressed to the Queen of France.

 _Could I have done anything differently? At least I should have tried, but they were three and heavily armed. I only had my dagger with me. No, it was too dangerous and at that moment Athos appeared more dead than alive. Risking my life for a dead husband? It would have been insane …_

Even with her thoughts on what had happened two days ago and today, she scanned the whole inn from time to time, observing the men and some women at the other tables. Each time the door was opened and someone new entered the dark tavern she looked at those people closely. It was still some time until nightfall, but she guessed that Aramis would come earlier, if he came at all.

When the door was opened again she could see a man with dark hair like Aramis' in a blue cape followed by two other men in blue capes. At first she thought that one of them might be Aramis, but he wasn't with the other Musketeers. They didn't look in the tavern around, but two of them went straight to a table while the third ordered a bottle of wine.

Unsure, Milady observed the three Musketeers closer. She didn't know them. No d'Artagnan, no Porthos, no Aramis and she doubted that her husband was fit enough to walk already. The door was opened again this time five Red Guards entered the tavern and looked curiously around as if they were searching for someone. Her gut told her that something was very wrong and that it was best to leave. She threw some livre on the table to pay for the ale and stew she had ordered earlier and as quietly as possible she stood up. Walking through the whole inn to leave through the main entrance was no option for her, she was nearer to a small back door. She knew that this small entrance would lead into a very small alley behind the inn. She was about to leave when a tall man blocked her way and hindered her escape.

"Not so fast, madame!"

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 _ **Happy New Year to all of you! xx Kira**_


	38. Chapter 38

**_Sorry for posting later than usual ... I was out all day._**

 ** _Thank you so much for your support and reading this story._**

 ** _I am always happy to read your reviews. Thank you!_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I like Lemay in this story, you're using him very well. I could just see someone telling a doctor that their injuries were from an *owl and a tree*. I really laughed at that part. Ah, Milady, you may have been caught. A Happy New Year again to you Kira!"_**

 ** _Thank you so much Debbie! I was not sure if I describe Lemay like he is shown in the show, but maybe it is easier to write him, because he was only in a few episodes. I still have to smile over this owl and tree joke myself. Glad you liked it. Poor d'Artagnan ;-)_**

 ** _Oops … what has happened to Milady … Not sure if you will get an answer in the next chapter. Happy New Year to you, too! xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Another excellent chapter. Still Athos suffers. Hopefully not for much longer. And now Milady has got herself in trouble. Looking forward to next chapter."_**

 ** _Thank you so much Barbara! Yes, I am sorry … Athos still has a long way ahead as you might find out in the next chapter … Well, Milady seems to love trouble, but she is a grown-up woman so I am sure she will find a way … more I won't say. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Allow me to say thank you to Beeblegirl for a review to ch 90 of "The past is never … or as I use to call it "Shadows of the past" … When you review as a guest there is no other way to say thank you._**

 ** _To Beeblegirl:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I have thoroughly enjoyed reading this story over the last few months, and this final chapter was a perfect ending. Thank you so much for sticking with it, (too many unfinished fanfics out there which is very frustrating). The whole story had been entertaining, at times very dramatic, well written, descriptive and had led me into another world just when I needed it._** ** _Thank you again."_**

 ** _You are more than welcome. I am glad that you enjoyed reading our story. Wow what a compliment. Perfect ending … we have to thank Helen for saying this comment to me ;-). When Ebm36 asked me to post our story (and I wasn't sure if I were brave enough to ever do that) my condition was to finish it … so she had to wait until we reached the Prologue before we started with posting). I have seen too many unfinished stories on ff net as well. It is sad, but I can understand when ppl stop writing (real life can interfere or what I think in most cases happens, ppl are disappointed when they don't get enough feedback to their stories, but see how many readers they have). I am glad we could help leading you into another world when you needed it. Believe me we both wrote that to escape from trouble in our real lives as well, but that was not the only reason why we wrote it. I hope that you are alright and I thank you very much for this compliment and all your reviews xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Enjoy ch 38 and leave me a note what you think about it xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 38**

Porthos breathed deeply in and out, trying to gather his own composure and calming his stressed nerves again. He had fled to the stable, searching for peace and quiet for several minutes, while he fought to stop tears running down over his face. With heavy but slow steps he walked over to his stallion and buried his face in his soft mane. The intelligent horse let him be, not moving and trying this way to calm his strong master.

 _What has just happened? Why could I lose it like that? I am completely overtired!_

Porthos told himself and feeling embarrassed he shook his head trying to get rid of the pictures in front of his eyes, over and over he thought about what had just occurred in the infirmary and he chided himself about the words he had used. He heard Roger in the box next to his stallion stamping nervously with his hooves on the ground.

 _Yes, I know, Roger, I am afraid too. I don't want to lose Athos. Why did he say that?_

Porthos dried his eyes with both of his hands, stepping back from his own horse, he walked over to Roger and stroked gently over his nose and trying to calm Athos' horse. The big brown eyes searched Porthos' eyes curiously as if he wanted to ask what had happened and before Porthos realised what he was doing he started to talk with Roger about what was bothering him.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Several minutes earlier_**

After another hour of sleep Athos woke up with a start screaming as loud as his weak voice allowed him to cry, when his injured thigh started to throb heavily. Porthos jumped to his feet, having dozed on the chair next to Athos' bed - his pistol in his lap -, while all his brothers had finally fallen asleep again.

"Athos, what is it?" He asked concern written all over his face.

"My … bloody … thigh …" Athos moaned and glared with his red-rimmed green eyes, which were filled with pain and moisture, at Porthos.

 _When will it ever stop? When will this pain finally go away? I am a burden to all of my brothers. I can do nothing, I need them for everything and when my arm ..._

"Arghh …" Athos moaned when his right arm started to throb as well.

"I will give you another pain potion. Your body needs the sleep." Porthos gently touched Athos' shoulder and hurried to bring the cup with the pain draught.

"I wish ... it all ... would ... be ... over …"

Athos slurred and Porthos thought he meant that the pain would finally leave his friend's body.

"You will be better in the morning. Now come, I'll help you to drink."

He quietly told him, while gently lifting Athos' head and holding the cup for him, but the swordsman didn't drink and turned his head away, glaring angrily at the bitter draught.

 _Not again. It tastes bitter and simply awful … and I doubt that it helps anything … I want it to be over … I don't know what will happen, if I won't be able to use my arm … I have never thought about it … will I end like poor Gerard … he …_

 _Porthos go away … please … leave me be … if I am a cripple I won't be able to serve as a soldier anymore … I …_

Athos felt his heart pulsing in his chest and he wondered when the itching feeling would go away again, not really recognising Porthos who now bent over his face.

"Really, Athos?" Porthos frowned. Searching with his brown eyes' his friends, realising that they were unfocused and moving fast from one side to the other. "Come, you can do this. I know it." Porthos encouraged his brother.

 _Why are you helping me Porthos? Why can't you simply let me go? You're awake for hours next to me, helping me with everything, fighting for me … I'm so tired … so anxious … why couldn't the doctor tell me that my arm would be alright again … why did I use it to protect myself … I was a fool … Leave me alone, Porthos … can't you see that I am a lost cause … please … don't put too much hope in me … I will only hurt you ..._

"Leave … me …" Athos whimpered, while breathing through another wave of pain, his head started to swirl.

"Hey, what's wrong Athos? What are you talking about? Why should I leave you? How could I leave you _in your hour of need_? What brother would I be? You would do the very same for me, Athos. Come on you need the pain potion. I know it tastes disgusting, but it will help you. I promise." Porthos answered him, while searching with his brown eyes Athos' green.

"Leav …" Athos gasped a second time, not able to finish his sentence, while he felt suddenly so lost and dazed.

"I can't … you are way too important for me. You know that."

Porthos whispered in his ear, but put the cup down, sensing that Athos needed some more comfort first, before he give him the bitter draught.

 _Can't you see that I won't be able to be your brother anymore, Porthos. Without being able to fight, without using my sword arm … You know what happened to Gerard after the doctor had to amputate his arm … I can still hear his screams while I helped to hold him down. We all tried to help him, but he … he lost the fight … He couldn't serve any longer … Tréville tried … but … What shall I tell you, Porthos, what can I say to make you understand ..._

"I won't be … able … to use … my … right … arm … anymore." Athos gasped, while a lonely tear searched its way from Athos' eyes, over his cheek, down to his chin.

"You don't know that, Athos. The doctor couldn't say." Porthos told him, trying to reach Athos usual logical thinking mind, which seemed to be clouded with emotions of fear. Gently he stopped the tear with his thumb.

 _Stop it Porthos … I can't take it anymore … I can't control my emotions anymore … I … wish I could move my fingers, only a little, to have a glimpse of hope, but nothing ..._

"I know … it. I can … sense … it ..." Athos mumbled.

"Shhh … first we concentrate that you can sleep through the night and you will see tomorrow you will feel much better."

As Porthos gently whispered in his friend's ear, a gaze to the two other beds told him that Aramis and d'Artagnan were still asleep. He had imagined that Athos' scream would have woken at least the young Gascon, that both of his other brothers were still sleeping were evidence enough to him that they were all exhausted, injured and simply spent. He wished he wasn't alone in trying to talk some sense into Athos, but for now he had to deal with his stubborn and ailing friend on his own.

 _Funny how Porthos still tries to convince me that everything will be alright again. You were always an optimist with such a great heart, accepting me with all my flaws and saving my life back then in this château … but not this time my friend, I can feel it … I won't make it … So stop trying to convince myself that I will be fine again. Fine … ha … Aramis would chide me now for even thinking this word._

"Ha …" Athos gasped.

"What is so funny?" Porthos tried to lock eyes with Athos, but his eyes were still unfocused.

 _Nothing is funny. I will lose you all … I can't bare the thought that you will mourn about me. I need … I need to say goodbye … as long as I can … I need to thank him … them … Oh I wish I was … stronger … but I'm soooo tired … I need to tell him … he has to know …_

"I won't ... make it, … thos." Athos mumbled. "... goodbye … mon … ami … than ..."

Athos whispered while his eyes started to droop again and Porthos only looked in horror at Athos' pale face while trying to understand what he just had wanted to tell him. When he realised what Athos was doing he acted out of fear, not ready to give him up without a fight.

"Are you mad?" Porthos asked angry. "You have fought so much, you have come so far, you will survive. You are strong, don't give up!" Porthos told him, while gently stroking over Athos' curly hair.

 _If I hadn't put my arm between the main gauche and my neck … all would be … over by now … no pain … no sorrow … no fear … no emotions … why is life … so complicated … so tired … It would all be over … it would have … been for … the best ..._

"I wish he … not failed …"

Athos slurred, his head lolled exhaustedly to his side, while he felt more and more tremors running over his whole body. He tried to oppress the agony but he couldn't. More and more moans escaped his mouth and he hadn't any energy left to stay quiet.

Porthos looked anxiously at his brother.

"You need that pain potion. Now!" He said in a loud voice. He reached for the cup and pressed it at Athos' lips forcing him this time to drink it.

Athos was too weak to fight him, he sluggishly opened his mouth and swallowed the fluid, while Porthos did not stop talking to him encouraging words.

"That's it."

Porthos told him, when the cup was finally empty. He put the empty cup away and gently wiped some of the draught with a washcloth from Athos' beard, which hadn't made it to his mouth.

He wasn't sure if Athos was still awake, he had his eyes closed and his breathing had changed again. Porthos tired to tuck Athos deeper into the blanket and wished that his troubled mind would rest and sleep.

"Why … didn't … he … simply … fulfill … task …" Athos slurred, while breathing heavily when the pain gripped his whole body again.

"What are you talking about?" Porthos asked wondering if Athos was talking in his sleep.

"This man … with … the … dagger …" Athos gasped.

"You didn't mean that." Porthos chided Athos. "The pain is making you talking like this. Calm, sleep."

"I can't …" Athos forced himself to open his eyes again, with his blurred vision he searched Porthos' eyes. "Tell them … I'm … sorry …" He slurred.

"Athos, don't give up now, do you hear me!" Porthos fought against his tears which were welling up in his eyes.

"Leave … me … alone … plea …" Athos gasped, while struggling for more and more air.

"I won't leave you now. You are in pain and you don't know what you are talking. Rest!" Porthos protested, but Athos tried again.

"Go … ple … alon …" Athos slurred while his voice became quieter and quieter.

 _Maybe it's best to give him some space. He usually isn't a tactile person. He is exhausted and needs his freedom. I will do as he wish._ Porthos thought, not really wanting to leave the side of his ailing brother.

"Fine, if you want that, but I won't leave the room."

Porthos frustratedly shook his head and stood up, giving Athos more space and hoping the pain draught would finally have an effect on Athos easing his pain and helping him fall asleep, but it didn't come.

"I wish … over …" Athos slurred. "Bye … thank you … for …" He coughed.

Porthos who had walked away several steps from Athos' bed swirled around.

"Stop that nonsense, will you!" He shouted now agitated.

"Without … my … arm … life … no … sense …" Athos slurred while he forced open his eyes again, looking with a sad expression at Porthos.

"Don't you dare talking such nonsense!"

The strong man growled, but didn't move, feeling suddenly such an anger rising in himself. He wanted to haul Athos in an upright position and shake him so that he would come back to his senses and see what kind of nonsense he was talking, but he couldn't do that. He would only hurt the weak and confused man further.

 _Why can't you accept my help? Why can't you see that I am there for you? Why can't you simply rest?_ Porthos thought desperately.

His loud shout made d'Artagnan wake up who sat up on the bed and blinked confused not sure if there was any threat of danger to his friends. Next to him Aramis groaned out loud feeling his head started to spin again from the loud noises.

Porthos snapped:

"Don't even ever dare to think such a thought! Do you hear me! Do you think I fought all night long to keep you alive only to hear now that you wish you rather would be dead? This is insane!" He shouted and looked exhausted at the stubborn man in front of him.

"Go … away …" Athos shouted frustrated back, with his weak voice which slightly trembled.

"Oh, now I shall leave you? Why? Why can't you see that I don't want you to suffer? Can't I help you? Can't I fight with you? Comfort you? Why do you always push me away Athos, when you don't feel well? Can't you accept that I … that we care for you …?" Porthos pressed both of his hands at his hips and glared angrily at Athos.

Aramis who tried to figure out what was going on, reached with his hand for Athos and let his palm drop on his chest. He could feel his friend's fast pulsing heartbeat in his chest, the tremors that ran over his whole body and he sensed the distress and agony which Athos must obviously be in.

"We love you Athos and we don't want to lose you! That's why we won't leave you alone, true it could be possible that you won't be able to use your right arm, but you still have your left and you still have us. We won't give you up, so don't give up on yourself. That's all I am asking from you. Stop telling me that you wish to be dead!" Porthos said falling into a rage. "Because that hurts. You will make it, believe in yourself and stop being so stubborn, for once! Can you do that. I won't leave you! I will fight with you! So you fight, too!" He shouted even louder while undecidedly taking several steps into Athos' direction, but still waited in front of his bed.

"Porthos, stop!" Aramis shouted. "He's not well enough. Calm!" The medic tried to get up and sit on the stool next to Athos' bed, but another wave of dizziness hit him with an intense force and he collapsed back on the mattress.

"If … not … go … then … me …" Athos angrily gasped.

D'Artagnan looked disbelievingly at his sick mentor while Athos tried to free and disentangle himself from all the sheets and blankets they had wrapped him into, swaying dangerously and whimpering in pain. The young Gascon froze.

 _What the hell is going on? Why are they arguing? Good grief Athos really wants to leave his bed. He's in no condition for that. He will collapse on the floor. I need to do something … I have to help … but how?_

"Athos, stop!"

D'Artagnan screamed, but the injured man didn't hear d'Artagnan's voice. The sudden wish to flee and be on his own was holding him in a trance-like condition. Concentrating on his wish to get rid of all the sheets and blankets, he was not only captured in them but in his own world full of confusion and anxious thoughts. He didn't even realise that Porthos was trying to reach him with his fearful shouts.

Aramis, on the other side of Athos, fought to sit up on the mattress again, hearing Athos trying to escape from his bed.

 _It will kill him, getting up … he's too weak … his heart is hammering in his chest … he will pull all his stitches. I need to stop him. What happened between the both of them? Why is Porthos so upset? I can't stop him. For God's sake Porthos you are the only one who can stop him right now, so do something._

Aramis pushed both of his legs over the corner of his bed and tried to stand on his feet, but his body refused to cooperate. He swayed dangerously for several seconds, trying to reach with his hand for the bedpost, but missing it, because he once again saw double and landed in an ungainly heap on the floor, screaming out loud and feeling a sudden sickness coming up his throat.

"Porthos stop him." Aramis gasped yelping from the floor, his voice filled with fear that Athos would injure himself even more. "He's too weak. It will kill him!" Aramis shouted before vomiting what little food that was in his stomach on the floor under his bed.

Porthos, somehow disturbed by Aramis' fall and the loud thud his friend's body had made when he collapsed on the floor, looked confused at the whole scene in front of him, blinked several times and finally realised what his loud outbreak had caused. Shocked he put both of his hands on his mouth trying to suppress a sob. Next to him d'Artagnan struggled to stand up and limp over to their fallen comrade, while in the meantime Athos, not noticing that Aramis had tumbled on the floor, tried to move his legs over the corner of his bed.

It was this moment when Porthos finally came to his senses. With a loud curse, he rushed forward, his arms outstretched. He carefully wrapped them around Athos' upper body, making sure he would not put too much pressure on Athos' injured right arm. Thus he prevented Athos leaving his bed. His firm but gentle grip blocked any further movement and saved Athos from tearing his stitches.

"What are you doing, _mon ami_?" Porthos gasped anxiously.

"Leave … me …" Athos cried while struggling with his good arm against Porthos' strong embrace.

"I can't …" Porthos mumbled. "I don't want to lose you." He whispered in his friend's ear while pulling his upper body gently against his chest. "Can't you see that? You stubborn mule," he chided him.

Athos stopped fighting him. Exhausted he let his head drop on Porthos' warm chest and leaning into his embrace, buried his face in his friend's shirt.

"I won't ... be … able … to be … a … Musk …" He sobbed in Porthos' arms and the latter stroked gently over his hair.

"You don't know that. Calm, _mon ami_. I'm here, I have you. We are all here for you!"

"I can't …"

"Yes, you can. Please stop talking as if you don't want to live anymore. You scare me." Porthos whispered, while feeling tears now running down his face as well.

"So tired." Athos mumbled.

"I know, _mon ami._ I know. Sleep." Porthos whispered while gently stroking over Athos' back.

"What will …?" Athos sobbed.

"Whatever will happen, you will always be a Musketeer. We will help you. You know that, don't you?" Porthos whispered the words, and Athos nodded sluggishly.

"I'm sor …"

"Shh … everything will be alright again. I'm sure."

"Why …"

"Because I know you, you are a fighter. Just promise me to not give up, do you hear me?" Porthos asked, while feeling the wetness of Athos' tears dropping on his shirt, where he still buried his face.

"Don't … leave … alone …" Athos sobbed.

Porthos gulped. Seconds before Athos had shouted at him over and over to leave him and now he begged him to stay close.

"I don't leave you alone, you know that." Porthos said with his deep, strong voice. "So promise me to fight, to not give up," he asked his ailing brother again.

"I prom …" Athos sobbed.

"That's it. Now try to sleep." Porthos didn't dare to let Athos out of his embrace.

"Hurts …"

Athos mumbled, while Porthos gently stroked over his friend's back and rocked him like a little child.

"Everything will be alright. Do you hear me?"

Porthos asked again, feeling Athos' hold on him with his left hand, with which he had tried to fight him earlier, becoming less and less firm.

"Don't … alone …" Athos slurred again.

"You are not alone, _mon ami_. We are all here for you, come sleep now."

He felt Athos' body finally falling over and going limp. Athos' left hand slid down along his shoulder and his head lolled on the streetfighter's chest. Porthos could feel the warm breath of his now unconscious friend again on his neck and this small sign of life calmed him.

He didn't stop stroking over Athos' back, while the sick man was sleeping, his head still pressed on his chest.

"What are we doing to each other?" he mumbled into Athos' ear but the sick man couldn't hear him anymore. Porthos waited for several minutes more, simply holding his brother in his arms, needing to comfort him. When he heard d'Artagnan whispering something towards Aramis, he looked over to them, not letting go of Athos' weight on his chest.

"You alright?" He asked.

"He was sick," d'Artagnan quietly answered, looking over at Porthos who looked at him with tears in his eyes.

"It had to come at one point." Porthos mumbled.

D'Artagnan wasn't sure if he meant his tears, Aramis vomiting or Athos' outbreak. Maybe a little of all of it, the young man thought.

"I'm fine." Porthos could hear Aramis' weak voice from the floor, while the medic asked d'Artagnan to help him back on his feet.

"Ha … _fine_ … we all are … anything but … _fine_ …" Porthos gasped.

He could feel tremors running over Athos whole exhausted body and he tried to get hold of his blanket to put it around his back. Aramis, who was now standing with the help of d'Artagnan, looked at his two friends. Seeing that Athos had fallen asleep on Porthos' chest, who wasn't letting him out of his embrace, told him more than thousand words could.

"He wanted to give up?" Aramis mumbled, more a statement than a question.

"He knows exactly what to say to drive me crazy." Porthos admitted ashamed, feeling his cheeks getting warmer.

"What did he say?" D'Artagnan asked curiously.

"He wished that this _Juan_ had finished his job properly." Porthos angrily snorted.

"It's the pain and his anxiety regarding his arm." Aramis quietly explained, sitting down at the other side of Athos on the mattress and observing the rise and fall of his back, while his upper body still sought the closeness and warmth of Porthos' chest.

"He scared me." Porthos shook angrily his head, blinking some tears away. "Why can't he see that we will be there for him? That we have fought for and with him and that we won't give up on him so easily? He would do exactly the same for us." He asked not expecting an answer, but Aramis gave it to him nevertheless.

"Because he has experienced betrayal which caused him the greatest loss of his life." Aramis mumbled, now searching for Athos' curly hair and stroking gently over it. "Trusting again is something he still fears."

"But he knows that we won't betray him," d'Artagnan stated confidently.

Aramis sighed out loud.

"Right now he is simply confused and exhausted. The pain is taking its toll. Let's hope he will sleep longer this time." Aramis sighed, still feeling his swirling head.

"You should sleep as well," d'Artagnan told him, while limping over to a table where he fetched a wet washcloth. He then returned next to Aramis and started without saying a word to clean the medic's face from some of the remains of salvia. Aramis accepted the young man's help gratefully.

"I know, my body needs rest. How I wish we could tell Athos that he will be able to use his arm again. It would give him hope." Aramis mumbled.

"We will see in the morning, maybe then the swelling will be less." D'Artagnan helped.

"I doubt it." Aramis mumbled. Then he turned to Porthos. "We should lie him down again and tuck him in his blankets."

Porthos nodded and softly helped the sleeping man back onto the mattress, while Aramis helped with supporting his head. Then the streetfighter stood up, looked on the mess Aramis had left on the floor and mumbled that he would fetch a bucket with water to clean everything up and stumbled, exhausted, out of the infirmary.

D'Artagnan tried to stop him, but Aramis held him back.

"Give him some time. Right now Porthos is carrying most of our weight and sorrows. Athos words have hurt him deeply. He's exhausted, overtired and frustrated that Athos isn't better by now.

Unlike us, he had to help him these past hours to drink, to fight, to convince him to not give up, while we could rest. Porthos needs his own bed and a good night's sleep." Aramis added.

"But he won't go sleeping now, will he?"

"No, he will go somewhere to brood by himself for a while, blaming himself that he led his feelings of fear win over him so that he shouted at our dear stubborn injured Comte." Aramis wanted to shake his head but decided it would be better to let it be.

"I should go after him." D'Artagnan said in a firm voice.

"Give him some minutes and then look for him. I'm sure whoever is standing guard in front of that door will be able to tell you, where he is. He won't go far in case Athos needs him and we just both saw that he sought Porthos' comfort." He smiled while looking down on his sleeping friend.

"I feel so helpless." D'Artagnan muttered.

"Believe me you are a great help to all of us. Look at me, I would still be on that floor, if you hadn't helped me up.

"How are you, Aramis?"

"You won't believe me if I say fine." Aramis mocked.

"No." D'Artagnan laughed quietly.

"Better." Aramis admitted, but I need to lie down again. Will you help me?" he asked.

D'Artagnan nodded and immediately went to help Aramis to go back to the other bed, but instead, Aramis gave him a sign to help him out of his spoiled shirt and then help him curl up next to Athos and cover the both of them with more sheets and blankets.

"It's better when one of us sleeps close to him, so that he can feel he's not alone." Aramis explained quietly, while feeling Athos' breath next to him.

Exhausted, the medic fell asleep within minutes. D'Artagnan decided to look for Porthos, sensing that his strong friend needed him now too. With a last glance over his two injured, but now sleeping friends and trusting that they would be guarded safely, he left the infirmary limping towards the door and quietly whispering to Henri, asking him for Porthos' whereabouts and saying that he should wait inside the infirmary, while he was gone.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _I am not sure if you like this chapter. Maybe it was too much … well you will decide and let me know._**

 ** _I would have never been able to post this chapter, without the help of Beth and Tricia. Beth has proofread the first half of this chapter and Tricia the second half. Thank you so much to you both ladies! I owe you. I know my English language skills are poorly, but you have both helped me so much already and you are still helping me. Thank you for teaching me each time a little more, for your time in sitting down and reading it and your feedback that encourages me a lot! xx Kira_**


	39. Chapter 39

**_Hey,_**

 ** _I am back with the next chapter._**

 ** _Thank you so much for proofreading the whole text tricia. All remaining mistakes are mine! Beth I wish you a speedy recovery xxx Kira_**

 ** _Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews and of course for reading this story. To those of you where I cannot answer via pm:_**

* * *

 ** _Beeblegirl:_**

 ** _"_** ** _A very tense and emotional chapter. Poor Porthos, I could feel his frustration."_**

 ** _Thank you so much, yes I had the idea to write such a tense chapter and I agree with you poor Porthos. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Barbara Liddell:_**

 ** _"_** ** _OMG that was difficult to read through all my tears. Very powerful. Can't wait for the next chapter."_**

 ** _Aww thank you so much. Yes I know I owe you about 50 tissue boxes by now. Next chapter is up to read. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Well you'd never know English wasn't your first language.  
I believe this chapter played out like it would have in real life when someone, be it man or woman, would be discouraged at the loss of a limb. Athos putting up a fight like that with his brothers sounded perfectly normal to me. Especially back in that time period when modern medicine and/or surgical methods wasn't available.  
And I thought that since Athos could use either arm sword fighting that he'd still be able to be a Musketeer. Even if it meant he could only teach recruits the fundamentals. He'd still be useful. Perhaps you could have one of the inseparables tell him that just in case. It would give Athos a bit of hope for his future."_**

* * *

 ** _Thank you Debbie. I pass the compliment over to Beth, Helen and now Tricia who have put a lot of time and energy in these texts._**

 ** _Aww thank you for your compliment. I had that chapter for my inner eye but it is always one thing to imagine it and the other to put those pictures on the paper._**

 ** _I agree with you Athos will be always a Musketeer even if he can only use one of his arms properly …_**

 ** _Hmmm … I guess I have planned sth like that. Encouraging words … more I won't tell you for now. (Funny, the chapter with the support has already been written while you wrote your comment. So I am glad that you are going to expect sth like that.) xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _tricia1630:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I love this story Kira! My heart breaks for Athos but I understand Porthos frustration too._** ** _No wonder he shouts ! An emotional chapter indeed!"_**

 ** _Aww thank you so much not only for your awesome review, but for your help. Without Beth and now your help I would have never been able to post the past chapters._**

 ** _Yes poor Athos. I'm sorry … it seems he has always to suffer with me …_**

 ** _Glad you love the story and this chapter. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _So here it is chapter 39._**

 ** _It will have a minor reference to the plot of my other ff "Facing the Storm" but I think you can follow this chapter without knowing about the other story._**

 ** _Good news I have finished writing ch 44 today and I think there are about 2-3 chapters to come after this and then the story will be finished. Please give me time with posting._**

 ** _Enjoy ch 39 and drop me a line what you think about it. Thank you_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 39**

"Porthos?" D'Artagnan asked into the almost pitch dark stable.

No answer.

 _Was Henri wrong? Is Porthos somewhere else?_

D'Artagnan had already started to limp away when he heard Roger neighing. The young Gascon paused, listened into the darkness and tried to see something. At the end of the large stable was a lit lantern hanging on a nail, which was attached to a strong beam, sending some small rays of light even at this part of the stable. The young man waited until he could see the shape of a strong man sitting on a hay bale next to Roger's box. His shoulders bowed, head bent.

It had to be Porthos, who else would sit here at this time on a hay bale? Slowly limping forward, he neared his friend who seemed to be in a world of his own and didn't move when he approached him, instead staying in the uncomfortable position.

"Tell me, when did you last sleep?" D'Artagnan said again, while sitting down next to Porthos and gently laid his bandaged hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Why are you here?" Porthos whispered in a hushed voice not answering d'Artagnan's previous question.

"Why shouldn't I?" D'Artagnan answered quietly, not letting go of his friend's shoulder, feeling Porthos slightly shaking. "So, when was the last time you were able to rest?" He asked again.

"Sometime last night." Porthos mumbled. "I don't need to sleep, I simply needed some distance …" Porthos quietly admitted.

"I've never seen Athos like this before." D'Artagnan said, trying to help Porthos to open up a little more.

"Hmm … so stubborn …?" Porthos asked.

"No, stubborn I know." D'Artagnan quietly chuckled remembering some episodes where Aramis and Porthos had to deal with their very stubborn Lieutenant. "So … emotional … " the young man paused, shaking his head.

 _Wait that's not true … I have seen him like this before after I helped him out of his burning manor._

"No, that's not the right word … so frightened ..." He barely whispered as if even speaking it out loud was a sin.

"I have …" Porthos raised his head and looked into d'Artagnan's face which was shimmering bizarre in the orange, yellow light. "A long time ago … when we started to become friends … it's the pain … he will be his usual grumpy self in the morning, at least I hope …" Porthos sighed and stayed silent again.

D'Artagnan could see Porthos' red rimmed eyes. The big man wasn't ashamed of his shed tears, showing emotions had never been a problem for him, but d'Artagnan could sense that his brother was feeling guilty because he had shouted at his sick brother. Porthos looked somehow broken and shattered and that was what d'Artagnan concerned the most.

"What happened?" The young Gascon asked quietly.

"I snapped, that's what happened." Porthos answered a little louder still upset over himself.

"I didn't mean that." D'Artagnan answered calmly. Then he added. "I would have too and believe me, Aramis would have been furious, if we had been awake instead of you." He quietly added.

"He's good at pushing the people away who are loving and caring towards him." Porthos shook angrily his head. "I shouldn't have, d'Artagnan. There's no excuse for it. He's in no state …" New tears were forming in his eyes and he angrily wiped them away with his fingers and his shirtsleeve.

"Stop it." D'Artagnan said in a little harsher tone. "You just said that he's good at that and we all know him. You calmed him again, you were there for him, you are still there for him." D'Artagnan added while squeezing Porthos' shoulder. "So tell me what happened back then?" D'Artagnan asked again, hoping that if Porthos could tell him this story, he would be able to calm his shattered friend a little more.

Porthos stayed silent for several minutes, gathering himself and d'Artagnan, who sat quietly next to him, thought that the strong man wasn't going to tell him, but then he cleared his throat.

"Have you ever noticed the scar on his left side, by his hip?" he whispered.

"Yes, several times, when he is washing himself at the fountain and lifting his shirt. Why?"

"He was hit by a bullet while saving my life on his very first mission as a Musketeer." Porthos added.

"He never told me." D'Artagnan mumbled.

"He rarely speaks about himself." Porthos said. "Aramis had to cut him open with a knife to remove the bullet and we weren't sure if he would survive the night …" Porthos started to tell d'Artagnan the whole story and d'Artagnan eagerly listened.***

"Believe me d'Artagnan. I will never forget that night. He was scared of dying …" Porthos ended his story. "And today he told me he wished he was dead …"

"You do know that he was talking out of fear?" d'Artagnan said, still awe-struck at finally finding out how his friends had become brothers. "That he is not clearly thinking straight right now." He carefully added.

"Of course I know." Porthos looked at d'Artagnan. "That's why I feel so horrible. I let him down."

"No, you didn't let him down. You talked some sense back into him and you were there for him. Athos as a patient … he's even more stubborn than when he is fit for duty." D'Artagnan shook his head. "Believe me he won't be mad with you. All he will remember is that you were there for him, when he suffered the most. Like you were there for him that night in this abandoned château outside of Paris." The young Gascon added confidently.

Porthos said nothing.

"But you know what? I let Athos down." D'Artagnan now quietly admitted.

"You?" Porthos looked up astonished. "Believe me, you will never let him down. He cares for you, more than you know." Porthos added while searching d'Artagnan's dark brown eyes. "What makes you think that you let him down?"

"Because of my stupidity, climbing that tree and falling down. It caused us to lose time when trying to stop Juan." D'Artagnan dropped his head.

"He was so glad to see you alive. You should have seen his reaction … he even …" Porthos paused biting himself on his lips.

 _What I am doing here. Am I crazy. I nearly told d'Artagnan about the dagger. I've promised Athos not to tell him …_

"He even what Porthos?" D'Artagnan asked. "There is something you don't want to tell me. Believe me I know Athos, if he hears the whole story about me, this tree, leaving my weapons and gloves behind and not expecting an owl … He always says head over heart. I simply didn't think first, but followed my intuition. I should have known better … The first thing he will do when he's much better is order me to do stable duty for at least a week." d'Artagnan sighed. "And believe me I will do whatever he asks me to do, I only want to see him better …" The young man gulped.

"You can bet on that." Porthos quietly mumbled.

"Porthos, what is it?" D'Artagnan asked again, still trying to get his own emotions under control.

"Nothing …" Porthos said a little too sharp. "We should go back and check on both of our friends.

D'Artagnan wasn't sure what he had missed, but he was certain that he had missed something. The way Porthos had suddenly stopped. He knew Porthos too well, he was a miserable liar, albeit he sensed that now was not the right moment to ask further questions. It would have to wait till the next day. Exhausted, the young Gascon tried to stand up, when he felt suddenly Porthos strong arms supporting him.

"Lean on me! It will be easier to walk for you. Tomorrow I will organise a walking stick for you." He added. D'Artagnan gratefully accepted his friend's help.

"So what happened to the diamonds? Did you ever find them?" D'Artagnan wanted to know.

"That's a story for another day." Porthos told him. "I need to fetch a bucket of water to clean up the floor and then I will watch over Athos, while you will be a good soldier and rest your ankle."

They slowly made it back to the infirmary. Porthos knew that d'Artagnan would ask him again, but for now he had calmed him. He hated to keep secrets from the young man. He felt that even if it would be a shock for the young man, that they owed him the truth about what happened to his dagger. He wondered if Athos would have fought the same if he hadn't recognised d'Artagnan's main-gauche. The fear that something might have happened to his young brother had made him fight for his own life. He was sure of it.

 _One step at a time. First Athos needs to get better, his arm has to heal again, but then I will sit down with him and tell him that he has to talk to d'Artagnan._

 _Keeping such a secret for himself will endanger our brotherhood and friendship. We shouldn't have secrets between us. Whatever is going on between Athos and Aramis has lead to this whole incident. I really need to talk some sense into them. Into all three of them …_

 _Oh what a joy ..._

 **XXXXX**

"Let me go! You have no right to detain me." Milady shouted angrily at Tréville.

"I have every right." Captain Tréville answered coldly. "You are a convicted criminal and you tried to kill one of my soldiers." He added while watching her closely.

Usually he wouldn't talk to a woman like that, but Milady was different. She was a killer and, from all he knew, a former spy of the Cardinal.

Frustrated, Milady dropped back onto the chair where she had been sitting for the past hour.

"May I?" Tréville asked and before she could answer, he sat down across from her.

Milady had looked around if there was any way or chance to flee, but the other three Musketeers, who had entered earlier, secured the way to the front door and two others of Tréville's men were waiting behind him at the back door. She was trapped.

"So Aramis has told you …" She glared angrily into the blue eyes of the Captain of the Musketeers.

"Your message never reached him. He won't be able to come." Tréville answered shortly.

"I should have never trusted that old man. I thought he would fall for my begging voice." She answered coldly.

"You cannot blame one of my men for being cautious." Tréville answered. "So tell me, who is behind the attack of Athos' life? Have you anything to do with it?"

"How is Athos? Is he …?" Milady asked and paused.

The fact that neither Aramis or his other two friends had appeared alongside the Captain told her that he still wasn't out of the woods.

"Not good. Fighting for his life!" Tréville answered quietly, observing an honest glimpse of worry in her green eyes.

Milady looked down.

"I wish I could have helped, to prevent him being hurt, but …"

"Tell me from the beginning and I might let you go." Tréville advised her, not sure if she was now trying to play a trick on him, too. She was an excellent actress.

Besides the fact that this woman was Athos' wife, he knew very little about her. Nevertheless he guessed that she was not only very intelligent, but dangerous. She had to be good, if the Cardinal had hired her to work for him.

Milady waited; thinking hard about what she should and could tell Tréville and what she should better leave out, but she realised that he was not letting her out of his eyesight the whole time and she knew that she wouldn't have a chance to trick this experienced soldier.

"I accidentally overheard a talk where a Spaniard called Don Fernando ordered a Musketeer to be killed." She calmly started to explain, but then paused.

Tréville nodded to her to continue while leaning further over the table to listen to her whispered words. He realised that Milady was scanning the whole inn, still checking if there was another threat besides him and his men. When she was sure that the Red Guards were not interested in her, but sat down at a table far away at the other side of the tavern in order to avoid the Musketeers, she relaxed a little more.

"You have to believe me I had no idea that it was Athos they wanted to see dead and when I realised that he was in danger I tried to help as best as possible."

"You could have offered your help, instead of going after this injured bandit and slitting his throat." Tréville answered coldly, while wondering if he could trust her words or not.

"I doubt that Athos would have been too delighted to see me, besides he was unconscious and his friends had arrived to take care of him. I even delivered the letter because I thought it was important."

"Do you know what the letter was about?" Tréville asked.

Milady stayed silent again.

"For God's sake, speak! This isn't a game anymore! Someone wants to see Athos dead and if it isn't you, who is still out for revenge, then he is still in danger." Tréville said angrily. His eyes locked with hers, sparkling furiously.

"The letter is the key." Milady mumbled quietly.

"How?" Tréville asked. "How can a simple invitation lead to such an attack? Was there a second letter?"

"It's more complicated." Milady sighed. "Alright, I will tell you the rest, but I have two conditions."

"Which are?"

"The first one I want your word that you will let me go. I know that you are a man of honour, otherwise Athos would never work for you."

"I cannot …" Tréville paused, then started again. "I will let you go, if you can assure me that you have nothing to do with the attack on Athos' life." Tréville considered carefully.

"I can assure you, Captain, I have had my revenge and when I thought he was dead I felt nothing. I am done with this. It's in the past! He spared me." She told him and Tréville had the feeling that she was telling him the truth for now.

"And the second condition?"

"I need something to drink, a glass or better still, a bottle of wine would do for a start. My throat is rough from so much talking."

"I can change that." Tréville gave a waitress a sign to bring them a bottle of wine and a glass. He himself decided to not touch a drop. He needed a clear head to follow Milady's story and to figure out if he could trust her or if she was continuing to play games with him.

"What will you pay me for telling you who is behind this?" she mischievously asked.

"Don't tempt me." Tréville glared dangerously at her. "I have no reason to pay you anything, I can arrest you. Here and now."

"Athos wouldn't be delighted if he heard about it …" Milady answered cockily.

Tréville sighed inwardly.

"He will never know that we even met today and that I am talked to you. Leave him alone. You have already hurt him too much. I won't tell him and open this old wound which has finally started to heal. You can bet on that." Tréville answered slowly losing his patience with this woman who brought so much misery upon his Lieutenant.

"He's not stupid, sooner or later he will find out, if you …" Milady protested.

"I think he doesn't care anymore." Tréville answered her with an icy tone in his voice. "Stop playing games with me. I have no time for this and I am not a naive young Gascon, but an old smart one."

He grinned coldly. Reminding her that he was well aware how she tried to trick d'Artagnan to achieve her goal in murdering Athos.

"At least I tried. You cannot blame me for that." Milady mocked, while taking a sip from the cheap wine, realising that the Captain of the Musketeers not only cared for his men, but knew them and their secrets very well. She waited several more minutes in silence. When Tréville gave one of his soldiers a sign to come over to arrest her, she raised her hand and said,

"Wait. I will tell you."

In the following minutes she told the Captain of the Musketeers what she had overheard of the talk between the Cardinal and Don Fernando. When she had finished, she slowly stood up.

"I need to go now, Captain. Make sure that Athos survives."

"Stay away from him. Leave Paris and never come back!" he said in a very sharp tone and Milady could sense that he really cared deeply for his officer.

Without looking back at him and, slightly hurt that he hadn't thanked her, she left the inn considering her next steps. She would leave Paris, but for now she had a much more important task to fulfill. Something she could be hanged for, but she needed to do it anyway.

Tréville didn't hinder her from leaving. Instead he let her go. What she had told him regarding the letter and the order to kill one of his Musketeers caused his head to hurt him even further. He had had a slight headache earlier, now he felt dizzy and nauseated.

 _This is getting more complicated by the minute. If she is telling the truth, I need to find and arrest this Don Fernando as soon as possible._

 _Is she lying to me? But … what reason should she have? She reached out to Aramis when she found out that Athos was not able to talk to her. She really was concerned about Athos' well- being. I don't understand this woman …_

 _I need to talk to Athos. He has to confirm some of these facts I just heard. I really hope he is much better by now. Time to head back._

 **XXXXX**

The sight which greeted Porthos and d'Artagnan when they returned into the infirmary was a funny one, but because he knew that Athos needed his sleep, he stayed silent. The injured Lieutenant had curled up on his left side, his face nearly touching Aramis' hair. Aramis, was lying on his right side, his head turned towards Athos' face, his arm lying protectively on Athos thick bandaged upper arm. Aramis seemed to be asleep as well, but Porthos wasn't so sure about it. At least both of his brothers had their eyes closed.

It was more than obvious that the bed was too small for both soldiers and if Athos would move further to the left side Aramis would drop definitely from the mattress. Only a small gap was left between his body and the corner of the bed. Even deeply asleep, Athos' good hand had found its way to Aramis' shoulder, where it was now lying limply. From time to time he moaned in his sleep and each time the marksman heard the distress he tried to move nearer towards his ailing friend, his thick hair brushing over his friend's pale face. Even asleep, he tried to comfort him and take some pain and distress away from him.

"Aren't they adorable? They look like two cute kittens." Porthos whispered.

"They remind me more of two fierce puppies." d'Artagnan played along, feeling relieved that Porthos' mood had changed slightly.

"We should wake Aramis and tell him." Porthos grinned brightly.

"Better not, we will wake Athos as well and I'm not so sure if he would like your description of him." d'Artagnan mouthed back. "It worries me that he is seeking Aramis' proximity. It's not like him."

"No, only when he feels miserable. But at least Aramis' proximity allows him to calm a little." Porthos whispered back, nodding towards Henri who quietly stood up from the chair where he had waited until the streetfighter would return.

"They are both deep asleep. Athos is moaning from time to time, but otherwise I have nothing to report."

"Thank you, Henri." Porthos clapped him quietly on his shoulder.

"I will wait outside. In about an hour, two other Musketeers will come to change guard with us. You all should sleep. No worries, we won't let another attack happen." He advised and promised the and he left quietly .

Porthos helped d'Artagnan over to his bed. When he was sure the young Gascon had settled, he started to clean the floor. After finishing and getting rid of the waste bucket in a second room, he returned next to Aramis' side.

"I have to wake him. This position cannot be good for the massive headache he will surely suffer from. His own bed is much better for him." He quietly told d'Artagnan.

"But don't we risk waking Athos as well, if you wake Aramis now?" D'Artagnan asked.

"It's either that or Aramis will drop on the floor the next time Athos moves during his sleep. I don't want to see Aramis lying on the infirmary floor for a third time today. I'll take the Athos wakes up, I will give him another sleeping draught which hopefully will send him back to sleep very quickly."

Carefully, Porthos bent over Aramis and shook the medic slightly by his shoulder. Aramis started to blink. Two exhausted brown eyes met Porthos'.

"Sorry for waking you, Aramis," he whispered gently in the medic's ear. "But it's better if you sleep in your own bed. Your back and head will be grateful tomorrow".

Aramis stayed silent for a while, listening to Porthos whispered words and watching his sleeping friend.

"I can try, but you have to help me. Hold his hand, while I try to sit up. Maybe this way we manage that he stays asleep." Aramis mouthed quietly back.

While the medic clumsily sat up trying not to fall from the corner of the bed, Porthos bent over both of his friends. With one hand he reached for Athos' left, pressing it gently, while with his other he steadied Aramis' back until the medic gave him a sign that his swirling head had eased down again. They waited for several minutes, but Athos didn't show any signs of waking up.

When Porthos was sure he could let get of Athos' hand, he quickly helped Aramis over to the other bed, where the medic laid down again. Athos shifted restlessly on the mattress moving his legs and left arm, but when Porthos put his hand on his shoulder and gently stroked over his curly hair, he calmed down again. Exhausted, the streetfighter sat down on the chair in between the two beds.

 _I fear this will be a long night. Athos is asleep for now, but I know sooner or later the pain will wake him up again. Let's hope the pain draught will do it's job at least for several more hours._

Porthos' rested his eyes for a moment on the sleeping form of his injured friend. A shudder went down his spine when he realised what had occurred earlier between them. How he could lose it in front of his ailing brother was still a riddle to him. He felt Aramis' hand squeezing his shoulder.

"He's already forgiven you. Don't worry."

"I worry about many things." Porthos whispered back. "I'm not sure if I am strong enough to calm him tonight, if he has another attack like last night or an outbreak like earlier." he quietly admitted.

"Porthos, I am sure you will be strong enough." Aramis quietly told him.

"Besides you are not alone." D'Artagnan added.

"So what do we do now?" Porthos mumbled, standing up again, stretching himself and yawning loudly.

"Rest as best as we can." Aramis told him. Porthos decided to walk over to the other chair and sit down. A creaking noise made him pause and look towards the door.

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 **Note:**

*** Reference to my other fanfic „Facing the Storm".


	40. Chapter 40

**_Thank you so much for reading and leaving a comment. I am back with the next chapter. I have to thank Tricia for her help, I gave her the wrong chapter to proofread and she hurried to finish this one, when we both found out. Thank you for all your time, you are doing such amazing job xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To those of you where I can't go back to you via pm:_**

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Another excellent chapter. No tears this time thank goodness. Still can't decide whether I love or hate Milady. No wonder she affects Athos so much. Looking forward to next chapter."_**

 ** _Yes, I can write chapters where you don't need tissues, but they are rare ;-) About Milady there is no in between either you hate or love her. Her measures are extreme … lol … well, you know what I mean, you will find out, if you can trust her. Thank you for your review. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I enjoyed the talk between d'Art and Porthos. Though I agree with Porthos that d'Art really needs to learn about his dagger.  
And even better was when Treville spoke with Milady. The poor captain doesn't know which end is up with her. I'm quite intrigued to know what she told him too. But you're not going to reveal any of that yet, I know (grins)."_**

 ** _Thank you for your kind words Debbie. Yes, I agree with you Athos has to tell the young Gascon, but will he do it … Oh glad you liked the Milady Tréville talk, sorry for not going into detail lol … no not sorry … you have to keep on guessing. Believe me at one point in this story you will find out what Milady told Tréville. Question is can she be trusted … xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Beeblegirl:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Nice to see the reference to the incident in Facing the Storm. Loved Treville out-foxing Milady, or has he? He let her go, probably knew she had revealed all she was going to._** ** _Still poor Porthos, he really does feel guilty."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review. Oh, yes the reference to "Facing the storm" I had to leave d'Artagnan out of this story, so at least I could give him a glimpse of Athos' backstory in this ff. Well, Tréville is smart … but can he trust Milady and most important has she told him the truth or is she playing with him … He promised her to let her go and he sticks to his word. Yep, poor Porthos, but he will feel better as soon as Athos is better. xx Kira_**

 ** _So enjoy ch 40 and if you like leave me a comment. I am happy to read your thoughts. xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 40**

For an instant Porthos wanted to reach for his pistol which was still attached to his weapons belt, but when he realised that the newcomer was no threat he led his hand drop again.

"You wouldn't shoot your Captain, would you Porthos?" Tréville asked quietly while looking to the bed where Athos was deep asleep.

"It depends …" Porthos mumbled then he added a little louder still aware that his loud voice could wake Athos. "It's good to see you Captain." He gesticulated that Tréville should sit down on the chair next to Athos' bed, but the Captain of the Musketeers shook his head and asked Porthos to sit down instead.

Carefully, while trying to make as least sound as possible, Tréville walked over to Athos' left side and watched his injured Lieutenant for a moment, his eyes closed his face still pale. He thought he saw signs of pain on his face. He watched the rising and falling of his chest for several seconds and breathed out inwardly, relieved that Athos was still alive. Slowly, and with the utmost care, he put his palm on Athos' forehead. The skin didn't feel clammy any longer, but was still too cool for his liking. Gently he stroked over Athos' hair when the swordsman whimpered in his sleep and started to move restlessly under his sheets.

"Easy, easy. You are safe." Tréville mumbled in his officer's ear.

Athos stopped tossing around, but he didn't show any signs of waking. Tréville looked up from his ailing soldier to his other men.

"How is he?" He whispered, hoping that he would not wake his Lieutenant.

"That's a good question." Aramis answered from his bed while sitting up, feeling slightly better than in hours. "He's sleeping for now, but the pain still leaves him exhausted and confused and the blood loss makes him sleepy. Anyway, I think we have finally beaten the symptoms of shock. Porthos did most of the work by feeding him with broth all afternoon each time he woke up." Aramis added.

"And you helped to warm him." Porthos reminded Aramis.

"Has Lemay checked on him?" Tréville asked now a little bit louder realising that their talk didn't disturb the sleep of his officer.

"Yes, about an hour ago." D'Artagnan informed him from the other bed on which he was sitting in an upright position.

"What did he say?" Tréville asked quietly, when Athos moaned a second time and started to move his feet restlessly over the mattress again. Tréville laid his hand on the left shoulder of his ailing officer, pressing it gently and Athos stopped moving around again. Somehow his presence seemed to calm him.

"That Athos is very lucky that he is still alive." Aramis informed him.

"Was Athos awake, when he was checked over?" Tréville asked.

"Yes." Porthos answered, leaving out that the doctor had wanted to examine him while he still was sleeping.

"How was he?" Tréville quietly asked.

"Confused, agitated and worried about not being able to use his right arm anymore." Porthos added, Tréville could hear the concern reverberating in his voice.

"So the doctor couldn't tell him that his arm will heal properly?" Tréville sighed and dropped on the small stool between Athos and Aramis' beds, while stroking his hand over his face feeling the headache appearing with much greater force than earlier. "Let me guess. Athos feared that he won't be able to serve as a Musketeer anymore." Tréville said and the three conscious Musketeers nodded in unison.

"The doctor didn't want to give him false hope and Athos' mind is in no clear state to cope with that information right now." Aramis added.

"Couldn't Lemay give him any word of hope? It would be important for him to recover."

Tréville mumbled thoughtfully, more to himself than to his men, knowing very well how Athos could become when he was brooding over something. Dealing with the possibility of losing the ability of using his sword arm could depress him further and slow down his recovery.

"That's exactly what I told the doctor." Porthos grumbled.

"He didn't want to give Athos false hope." D'Artagnan added. "He assumed that Athos prefers the truth and he was right."

"Yes, but right now he couldn't say for sure that Athos wouldn't be able to use his arm anymore. He was simply being cautious and concentrated on the positive facts." Aramis said.

"Such as?" Tréville asked.

"That Athos is still alive. He's had patients who didn't survive such an attack." Porthos added carefully.

"I assume that wasn't what Athos wanted to hear at that moment." Tréville shook his head, dissatisfied.

"You can bet that you are right, Captain." Porthos mumbled, while not enlarging upon the topic furthermore.

Tréville raised his eyebrows and looked questioningly towards Aramis and d'Artagnan.

"Athos whole body is still very weak and in pain, his judgment is clouded and he cannot think straight right now. The next time he woke -after Lemay had left- and realised that he still couldn't move his hand and fingers he told Porthos that it would have been better if Juan had fulfilled his task." Aramis explained quietly.

"Good grief." Tréville exclaimed.

"Porthos calmed him again. He fell asleep and hasn't woken since then." D'Artagnan explained, while Porthos dropped his gaze and investigated a hole in a wooden board on the floor.

Tréville studied the streetfighter for a brief moment. Porthos looked terrible, exhausted and downcast. His eyes were slightly red rimmed and his shoulders were heavily bent. The usually good humoured man who could fill the whole courtyard with his loud laughter was alarmingly silent. Tréville felt that his streetfighter needed some words of encouragement.

"When it comes to injuries, Athos is never easy." Tréville smiled fondly at Porthos. "I'm sure you have given all you have to support Athos, so that he doesn't give up on himself and continues to fight in order to survive." Tréville added, while Porthos head was still bent and he avoided looking into his commanding officer's eyes, ashamed that he could see his own demons.

 _Whatever has happened here the past hours? I am certain Porthos was Athos' tower of strength. I am sure that a stubborn injured man isn't easy to take care of. Porthos needs some sleep, so do Aramis and d'Artagnan and probably me too. But first I need more information._

"So, doctor Lemay couldn't give Athos any sign of hope at all? I mean it could be the swelling that leaves his hand and fingers numb for now. I have seen such injuries before, they are common …" Tréville added.

"He asked Athos if he could remember if he had used his right arm, hand or fingers after he had been attacked." Aramis explained.

"But Athos couldn't remember." Porthos answered with his head still bent now studying his brown boots and spotting some stains that needed to be removed before morning muster the next day.

"The doctor told us, when Athos was asleep, that this could be a sign that he would regain the use of his arm and hand again, if he had used it after it had been injured." D'Artagnan hurried to say.

"I assume that he fired my pistol with his right hand, because it is his dominant." Aramis added. "But I cannot say for sure."

"I see." Tréville stayed silent for several seconds.

At this moment Athos started to stir and blink sluggishly. Porthos noticed the signs of his friend waking up first. He bent over Athos, gently stroking over his back.

"Are you awake, Athos?" He whispered in his ear.

"Hur … ts …" Athos slurred.

"I will give you another pain potion." Porthos told him.

Exhausted, Athos rolled on his back and stared, confused, at the ceiling of the infirmary still blinking heavily. It took him some minutes to become aware of where he was, who was with him and why he was in the infirmary. A sudden sadness clouded his mind, when he realised that he was still not able to move his right hand and fingers.

"Athos, it's good to see you awake. How do you feel?" Tréville greeted him cautiously, when his officer finally had opened his eyes.

"Capt .. ain …" He mumbled, then he stayed silent lost in his own thoughts and fears.

 _He will tell me now that I won't be able to serve any longer … best I close my eyes again … so that he hasn't to tell me … I don't want to hear it now … I will need all my strength to hide my true feelings … and I simply can't for now ..._

Athos' eyes started to droop, Tréville noticing that Athos was beginning to brood, didn't let him go so easily. He softly clapped his cheeks with his right hand.

"Stay awake a little longer. Porthos is preparing a pain potion for you, you need to drink it. So tell me, how do you feel?"

Athos opened his eyes again. His vision was blurred and slightly unfocused.

"Utterly … spent … like … after … a fight … with ..." Athos gasped and didn't finish his sentence, when another fit of pain shot through his leg.

"I would be surprised if you didn't feel spent. You fought to stay alive and I thank you for that." Tréville told him and Athos could hear a glimpse of pride in his voice. "Keep on fighting, son!" he added quietly while he felt Tréville gently press his left hand.

"Wish … pain … would … go … away …" Athos slurred while searching Tréville's blue eyes with his own shimmering ones.

"I can help you with this." Porthos already wanted to lift Athos' head to give him the pain reliever, but Tréville gave him a sign with his other hand to wait.

"I've heard you are worried about your arm." Tréville said.

"Won't … be … able to use … it … again …" Athos mumbled.

"The doctor didn't say that." Aramis protested from the background.

"You will be able to use your arm again. It will need practice after such an injury. Give it time." Tréville insisted.

"Won't be able … to serve … Capt …" Athos slurred again, he was obviously having problems staying awake much longer.

Aramis wondered why the Captain didn't let Porthos help Athos with the pain potion and let him sleep again, but he was too spent to start to question him now.

"Is that what worries you the most, Athos? That you can't be a Musketeer with an injured arm?" he asked.

All Athos could do was nod sluggishly while he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

"Listen to me, son! Even with an injured arm, I will never allow you to leave. You are, and still will be, a Musketeer and my Lieutenant."

Tréville stood now up and bent over his injured officer, so that he was sure that Athos could really hear what he had to say.

"I will … of no … use …" Athos stubbornly answered, while he felt his head starting to spin.

"Stop it. Will you listen to me!" Tréville said a little harshly. Appalled with himself, he continued in a milder tone. "I am certain that your arm will heal properly, Athos, and you will be able to use it again. So stop worrying and concentrate on healing." He advised while gently pressing his soldier's hand, which was still laying in his, and thus, trying to calm him.

"Why are you so sure?" Aramis asked from his bed, suddenly realising what Tréville was doing. He wanted to give Athos hope, sensing the distress and desperation Athos' mind was in. Tréville answered Aramis' question while still addressing Athos, not letting him out of his sight.

"When I cleaned your arm and hand from the dried blood, Athos, I looked over to you,

Aramis. I was wondering how you were doing." Tréville continued to talk, not letting go of

the injured man's left hand and pressing it gently the whole time. Athos' eyes didn't let go of

Tréville's face and his bright smiling eyes.

"And?" Porthos asked now curiously.

"Suddenly something touched me. At first I thought I imagined it, but it happened a second time. Your fingers, Athos. The fingers of your right hand moved. I doubt that it would have been possible if the knife had cut some important nerves or muscles."

Athos head was swirling, while he tried to follow his Captain's words. What was he telling him? He had difficulty understanding what Tréville meant. His voice faded more and more into the background, instead he could hear his pulsing heartbeat in his ears. Exhausted, he closed his eyes again, his head lolled to one side, but he was still awake.

"Athos?" Tréville asked concerned.

"My … my head … hurts … sooo … tired …" He mumbled barely audibly while his left hand started to lose the grip on Tréville's hand until it fell limply back onto the mattress.

"Athos, can you hear me?" Tréville tried it again. "Do you understand what I just told you?" The Captain waited, but no reaction from his officer. He seemed to be in another world.

Through Athos' mind several words were racing: _Aramis, finger, blood,_ though he couldn't connect them properly. The pain in his thigh started to bother him again and he moaned aloud, while opening his mouth and trying to breathe through the pain. He forced himself to open his eyes again but his vision became more and more blurred.

"Captain, let him rest! It's too much." Aramis intervened, sensing Athos' distress.

Porthos didn't wait any longer. He pressed the cup on Athos' lips, gently lifted his head and helped him to drink. This time Athos simply followed his instructions. Too weak and exhausted to protest he swallowed the bitter liquid, hoping that it would help to ease the pain and pull him away from all these thoughts and emotions which were chasing through his head.

"See, I knew it! You will be able to use your arm again."

Porthos whispered in Athos' other ear to ground him further and finally the swordsman understood what Tréville had tried to explain to him.

"I could … move my … fingers …" He mumbled, forcing himself to look at his Captain while at the same time he wasn't able to hold his tears back any longer. They ran over his face and into his beard.

"Yes, and I am certain that you pulled the trigger of Aramis' pistol with your right hand as well." Tréville added, while he gently wiped Athos' tears away with a cloth. "You will be able to use your sword arm again, Athos! Sleep now!" he ordered.

Athos nodded slightly, closed his eyes and drifted off into another, now calmer, sleep.

"He needed that." Aramis said approvingly.

"Wish I would have been here earlier." Tréville sighed while standing up and making sure that Athos was tucked under all his sheets and blankets.

"You are here now." Porthos looked up. "Thank you, Captain!" He nodded gratefully towards him, knowing that Tréville always found a way to reach his stubborn Lieutenant.

"Have you found out anything about the attacker?" D'Artagnan wanted to know, while yawning loudly.

"I have now the proof that Don Fernando is behind the attack on Athos' life. I have given the order to arrest him and his niece and bring them both to the garrison for questioning."

"But why?" Aramis wondered. "What interest could he have in killing Athos?" he added, confused.

"Was it because of the letter Athos had to deliver?" Porthos asked. "Was there a second letter?" he added.

"There are still many questions to be answered, but with questioning Don Fernando and Dona Ynes-Mancía I am sure we will get the answers we seek." Tréville told them. "I see that you are all tired and worn out, which is understandable. I will need you all well rested and in a better health tomorrow, so the best I can do for all of you is to order you to go in your own rooms and sleep there." he added knowing very well that they wouldn't follow his order at once.

"Captain, with my concussion, I think it is best to stay here."

Aramis started the protest followed by d'Artagnan.

"I will not leave Athos again."

"We have watched over him these past hours, we can do it during the night as well." Porthos agreed.

Tréville shook his head.

"I disagree. Aramis, you need rest. But you are so concerned for Athos well-being that you will wake up each time Athos moans in his sleep. It's better for the both of you to rest. He will need you tomorrow and in the next days. Porthos, help him up and take him to his quarters.

"I agree with you Captain, that Aramis needs rest, I will bring him to his room and then return immediately."

"Porthos, you need your sleep, too." Tréville ordered.

"But who will wake next to Athos, if we all have to leave?" D'Artagnan asked while reluctantly following his Captain's order and standing up slowly.

Tréville looked at his three awake Musketeers, then he smiled.

"Me," he said "now move!"

They all knew that they had no other choice but to follow their Captain's order. Protesting loudly in the infirmary would only waken their ailing brother and they all knew that Tréville was right. So Porthos helped Aramis walk out of the infirmary, while d'Artagnan limped silently behind them. All three of them did not leave before looking one last time at Athos, who was deeply asleep.

"We will be back tomorrow at first light." Porthos announced.

"After breakfast."

Tréville interjected and waited until all three of them left. Then he fetched himself a pillow and a blanket and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible on the chair Porthos had occupied several minutes ago, knowing that his back would protest the next day. He wasn't twenty anymore. He was well aware that he needed his sleep too but, on the one hand, he didn't want to leave Athos alone in his hour of need and on the other, he wished to talk with Athos in private. The swordsman would be able to confirm some of the facts Milady had told him. He needed this information before he could plan his next moves against the Cardinal.

 **XXXXX**

Don Fernando had had a hard time since he had arrived in Paris earlier that day. First, he had asked for an audience with the Cardinal, but he was rejected. Angrily he had thought feverishly to find a way to talk to Richelieu nevertheless. He knew he had to take the risk in order to reach his goal.

Finally he had decided to seek the help of the Spanish ambassador who sent one of his men. After several hours of waiting, he received the confirmation that he would be able to meet with the second most powerful man in France, not at _Le Louvre_ but in a shabby tavern.

He had wanted to protest, but then decided that it was probably for the best, that they weren't seen together in public. The Spanish King had no idea that he was in Paris and if he knew, he wouldn't be delighted. In the past months there had been more than one rumour that it could be war between France and Spain which Don Fernando hoped would not happen before he had returned safely to Spain.

 _One talk with the Cardinal and then I am on my way to Italy._

He told himself over and over again. He felt uneasy. The appearance of the Captain of the Musketeers at _Château de Fontainebleau_ had disturbed him.

 _Tréville must know more than he said. I should have never agreed to kill one of his Musketeers, but it was the only way …_ He angrily shook his head.

He had an uneasy feeling and turned several times around, unsure if he was followed or not, when he made his way to the shabby tavern. But each time he looked around he couldn't see anybody.

 _I'm already seeing ghosts. It's time to leave as soon as possible …_

The talk with Richelieu didn't go as planned. The Cardinal was angry and upset and before he could stop him, he stood up, saying that their deal was off and that he should leave Paris and _Chateau de Fontainebleau_ as soon as possible. The Cardinal had made it clear that he had made a huge mistake and he wasn't willing to fulfill his promise after he had failed to fulfill his own goal.

Don Fernando's eyes had widened in terror when Richelieu had explained to him what his error had been. Now there was no way back. Both men were unaware that Milady could hear every word of their discussion, hiding in a dark corner near a window outside of the inn.

After Richelieu had left the Spaniard in a hurry, Don Fernando paid their drinks and left this shabby and dark place as well. It took him two more hours to finally be ready to leave Paris. The Spanish ambassador had informed him that Juan had been killed while attacking the Musketeers garrison. His body had been brought to the morgue and he had been asked to identify him. Further questions were asked and he reluctantly answered those with other lies.

"I have no time for this, I need to go!"

He had shouted and the Spanish ambassador had told him that Captain Tréville had ordered his and Dona Ynes-Mancía's arrest. He had paled at this announcement. Going to the place where they laid the dead out made him nearly sick. After he had identified the shot Juan, he needed air. He felt his heart pulsating in his chest, while he stumbled up the stony stairs. He needed fresh air. Breathing hard from climbing the steep stairs and sweating heavily, he stumbled out on the small street. Outside he felt sick, pressing his hand on his racing heart, he bent over and vomited bitter bile on the dirty street floor while feeling hot and cold at the same time.

He never heard the person approaching him from behind. With practiced ease the killer drew a dagger and pushed the sharp blade several times in his victim's back, cutting the places where the killer knew his victim would bleed to death within minutes.

After the perpetrator had finished his devilish job, Don Fernando collapsed on the cold and dirty ground like a stone. His eyes widened in terror and pain, his mouth wide open struggling for each breath and screaming and moaning in agony, but no-one came to his rescue. The attacker had bent over him and removed his purse with coins, his expensive timepiece, a ring and his weapons, making sure that it would look like a robbery.

Don Fernando couldn't fight this person anymore. His body was too weak, his mind too confused.

He had never seen his enemy coming and the last thing he had expected his fate would be was that he would die in the dirty concrete of a small street in Paris. His last conscious thought was the realisation that his well thought out plan had failed.

His face filled with fear and disbelief, the Spaniard died gasping for air. Only minutes passed until he took his last breath, then his whole body went limp, his arms dropped to both of his sides, his bright belly was directed towards the dark heaven, while his eyes stared wide open, into nothing.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter will be up Monday or Tuesday next week._**


	41. Chapter 41

**_Hey, I am back with the next instalment._**

 ** _I dedicate and gift this chapter to my dear friend V. Happy Birthday!_**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review, to those who have left a review as a guest._**

* * *

 ** _To Beeblegirl:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Athos really needs to pull his psychological self together now doesn't he oh he is ever going to fully recover. Love Daddy Treville! Thank you for this new chapter."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review. Athos will get better. Promise. Glad you loved Tréville in the role of a father. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Treville better watch out. His regiment of Musketeers will look to him to babysit them when injured like he is doing for Athos. Ha ha!  
Well now, Don Fernando is no more. There goes the capt. hoping to get any information out of the Spaniard.  
All I can say in regards to that is... good riddance to bad rubbish. _****_LOL!"_**

 ** _Oh, you might be right, first d'Artagnan, now Athos ;-) lol. Thank you for your review._**

 ** _Well, they are clever they will find out at one moment what's going on. Not sure if I am so clever to write it lol. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _You can always rely on Capt Treville to come up with the right words. I just hope Athos remembers them. Looking forward to next chapter."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review. Yes, Tréville is good in this. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Enjoy the next chapter!_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 41**

As a seasoned soldier Captain Tréville was used to little sleep and waiting patiently. Nevertheless he knew that the hard wooden chair would do him no good, but lying down was not an option for him. He had to grin inwardly about the irony. He was at the only place in his garrison where they had the most mattresses, cushions and blankets and he couldn't use them properly for himself, still being on high alert, in case someone else tried a third attempt on Athos' life. The fact that his soldiers hadn't found Don Fernando yet, didn't bode well.

For over an hour he had sat silently next to his injured Lieutenant deep in thought about the next steps he had to undertake. The regular rising and falling of Athos' chest had calmed his aching and throbbing head a little. At least he knew that Athos was still alive. He had admit to himself that he had needed that talk with Athos earlier to give him hope, to tell him to continue to fight and in order to settle his own fears of probably losing not only a good officer, but a young friend who could have been his son, as well.

Of course he knew that Athos could have died. Each time he sent him and his brothers on a mission he had to live with the possibility that they wouldn't come back alive. The life of a soldier was dangerous. During his time as a Captain he had lost several soldiers, and each loss had left him with an aching pain in his heart, a saddening emptiness and sleepless nights, but he didn't know how he would feel and react to the loss of Athos.

This young and talented soldier held a special place in his heart, not only because he had saved his life many years ago, but because he would miss his strategic mind and calm presence. He had no idea if Athos knew that, but being able to discuss problems regarding the King and his court with him, helped him greatly when thinking important problems through. He had his reasons why he had made this man his second-in-command, although still very young, shortly after he had joined regiment of the Musketeers. He enjoyed working with this calm and silent man, who said little and only spoke when necessary, but observed a lot.

He still wondered if Athos' soul which had been injured severely after he had wrongly trusted the love of his life, would ever heal again. The fact that he had never seen him laughing once in the past years convinced him that Athos still needed time. After finally finding out the truth about his past, he had a better understanding of why Athos was sometimes so withdrawn, brooding or felt the need to drown his sorrows with red wine.

Of course Athos had great problems, but who hadn't? He could infuriate him with his stubborness sometimes, but he could rely on him and trusted him with his own life.

Showing and dealing with his emotions sometimes made Athos stumble over his own feet like a newborn foal. However, each time his two, now three brothers, were there for him, supporting him, building him up again and not letting go of him, even when he wanted to give up. He had no doubt that without the help of Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan, Athos wouldn't have survived these past two days. The _Inséperables_ took care of each other when they felt that one of them needed their help and right now it was Athos they all worried about.

During the past weeks he had wondered if something had happened between Aramis and Athos, which had led to a possible fracture in their bond, but observing now how Athos had tried to save Aramis' life and Aramis not giving up in helping Athos to pull through, reassured him that he might be wrong. From time to time all of his _Inséperables_ could be angry with each other, but not because they hated or envied themselves, but they noticed that the other had made a mistake or simply wanted to protect their brothers from greater harm.

Tréville assumed that whatever was going on between Athos and Aramis had either to do with a woman or with an odd decision that had perhaps endangered Athos' or Aramis' life at one point and right now, they were starting to learn to trust each other again. Little did he know how close he was with his assumptions to the dangerous truth which could cost all of their lives.

Seeing Athos now so weak and emotional hurt, worried him.

 _I cannot protect you from everything, but at least I can try. I need to talk to you Athos, but first you need to become stronger._

When Athos moaned a little louder, Tréville stood up and gently pressed his shoulder, while pulling the blanket, which had slipped from Athos' upper chest, higher. Smoothing over the thick blue fabric of the blanket he rested his palm on Athos' chest and could feel the steady heartbeat under Athos' ribcage. The swordsman felt Tréville's presence and calmed again.

 _You still have a long way to go. I will need a way to get vital information from you, without upsetting you any further. I will not mention that Milady was near you and came here to see you. It's about time that she got out of your life, so that you can move on …_

A soft knock on the door made Tréville turn around. He walked over to the door, with his pistol in his hand, not taking any chances. Outside Fabien and Maurice were waiting and reported to him that Don Fernando had been found dead near the morgue where he had identified Juan as one of his servants.

Exhausted, Tréville closed his eyes after he had sent his two Musketeers away.

 _I should have known that Richelieu would get rid of him the second he realised that I didn't trust his words. He needs to cover his own tracks. This man is dangerous …_

Tréville dropped back on his chair, grateful for the soft pillow. Athos hadn't woken from the disturbance. Now all the Captain could do, was to hope that Dona Ynes-Mancía could give him some indication that the Cardinal was involved in the attack on the life of one of his soldiers, but he somehow doubted, that Dona Ynes-Mancía would talk to him. She seemed to be an accomplished liar.

Several minutes later he was disturbed again, when another Musketeer brought something to drink and eat for him from Serge. Tréville had to smile about their cook. Of course the old man would make sure that his Captain had at least something to eat. While he nipped on the precious Cognac, he started to think about how he should address Athos and how he could retrieve important information from him -without upsetting him- the next time he would be awake and be fit enough to talk.

The rest of the night was surprisingly calm. Tréville dozed, each time he woke up again from the noise of a creaking plank or a crying owl he told himself to stay awake. He listened to the sounds of the night, the fire in the oven which had heated the infirmary up in order to warm the body of his ailing officer, had made his own body sweaty and tired but he didn't care. Another reason why he had sent the three other injured and spent soldiers to their rooms.

He slowly stood up, stretched his old bones and busied then himself with restarting the fire, fanning the embers and adding more wood to create a big fire. Soon the bright light of the flames wrapped the infirmary in a warm orange light and the burning wood sent some louder sounds into the dark silence.

The Captain of the Musketeers, now more awake, considered all his options for the upteenth time, wondering if he had forgotten something important.

Athos was still deeply asleep - a good sign the Captain mused. He touched his skin from time to time to check on Athos' state of health and to make sure that infection hadn't set in or that he hadn't become warmer. He hoped that this was a sign that Athos was now really on the mend. In the early hours of the morning the pain potion Porthos had given Athos seemed to ease off. The swordsman started to move restlessly around in his sleep, probably chased by another nightmare. He moved his injured leg and arm and the pain brought him back to full consciousness.

Tréville observed his soldier closely. When he was sure that Athos was about to wake up, he stood up to prepare a cup with broth and, if needed, another pain potion. A small candle was burning next to Athos' face and when his officer finally opened his eyes sluggishly, he squeezed them shut at once, blinded by the bright light.

Tréville sat down next to him on his left side, putting the candle away and waited until Athos tried to open his eyes carefully a second time.

"Captain?" Athos mumbled. "How long …" he slurred.

"Several hours this time." Tréville answered him quietly. "Here, drink."

He helped Athos to lift his head and drink some broth. Athos gave him a sign when he had enough. Now more conscious, he realised that Tréville was alone with him.

"Where….?" he mumbled, barely audible.

"In their quarters, sleeping, I hope." Tréville answered.

"I guess they protested …" Athos mumbled. "Thank you." He then added realising that Tréville must have watched over him the whole night. Slightly embarrassed, he tried to sit more up, but failed when his weakened body betrayed him.

"Ouch …" he whispered.

"What are you doing?" Tréville chided him.

"Don't know."

Athos admitted quietly, while trying to move his right hand. Still no change. Frustrated, he let his head drop back on his pillow and started to move his right leg restlessly over the mattress, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Athos, stop it. You are only hurting yourself further." Tréville ordered him and Athos calmed down.

He felt Tréville's hands behind his back and, before he could say a word of protest, his Captain helped him into a sitting position while putting more pillows behind his back.

"Better?" Tréville asked.

"A little." Athos said.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired and I still cannot move my right hand." He sighed, frustrated.

"Give it time, Athos. Your arm is still heavily swollen. It would have surprised me, if you were able to move it already." Tréville put his own hand on Athos' good one to give him some comfort. "You should try to sleep a little longer. It's still dark outside."

"I can't." Athos admitted. "There are too many thoughts running through my aching head."

"Such as?"

"Who has done this to me? Who wants to see me dead?" Athos admitted quietly.

 _I will tell you Athos, but you are still not up to it. Later, when I have more evidence. I must first verify if Milady has told me the truth. As long as you keep your eyes open I will try to talk to you._

Téville started to set the first part of his plan into motion.

"What if I tell you about a bizarre story which occurred earlier to distract you a little from all these thoughts. We will answer all your other questions in time. I am sure. Be patient!"

"I am a patient … right now …" Athos huffed while he felt his eyes drooping again.

"I should let you sleep Athos." Tréville told him.

"No, please I want to distract my mind. Your story, I would ... appreciate it ..." Athos told his Captain, while he fought to suppress another fit of pain.

"Athos …?" Tréville asked concerned seeing his officer's pained expression.

"Will … go … away …" Athos mumbled while catching his breath again. "Please … tell me …" he gasped.

Tréville, who had expected nothing else from his stubborn officer and, kind of glad that Athos was asking for some distraction because it meant that he was fighting to become his normal self, quietly started his well-thought tale. He would stick to the truth as far as possible.

"This afternoon a woman came to the garrison." He started.

"A woman? What did … she want?" Athos asked curiously.

"According to Serge, she was looking for Aramis."

"Aramis and women …" Athos mumbled. "What …"

He coughed and Tréville waited until Athos had breathed through another fit of pain, wishing he could help comfort his ailing officer somehow.

"What did she want from him?" Tréville finished Athos' question.

"Yes …" Athos said behind gritted teeth.

"She wanted to warn him about her husband."

"Why?" Athos breathing had calmed a little.

"She said he had found out about their affair and wanted to kill him …"

 _Wait? What husband? What affair? Is he talking about the Queen? Who was this woman … who is the husband …?_

Athos' head started suddenly to swirl and throb and that was only the beginning. All of a sudden the palms of his hands started to sweat, his heart seemed as if it would burst in his chest and he felt cold and warm at the same time. He started to struggle for every breathe while his head continued to spin. Moaning aloud, he tiredly tried to curl on his left side, but he was too weak to do it by himself.

 _Does Tréville know about Aramis and the Queen? Does he suspect anything and wants me to confirm it?_

Athos imagined how Tréville would tell him in a moment that Aramis and the Queen were having an affair and that he found this so unbelievable that it must be a bad joke. He could imagine Tréville's facial expression shortly before he burst into a loud laughing fit. Did he want his confirmation that such a story was simply unbelievable?

 _This woman … could that really have been Queen Anne who had come to the garrison to see Aramis? Maybe she had heard that he had been injured and was worried? No … no … no … Athos don't be stupid. The Queen would never endanger her own life like this and Tréville would never ask me such a question. Not now. This bloody pain draught is making me more and more confused … Stay calm Athos … breathe … arggghhhh_

The swordsman groaned out loud.

"Athos?" Tréville asked alarmed. "What's wrong? Come on, talk to me son."

Athos felt his heart pulsing in his chest and he wondered when the itching pain in his chest would go away again. He closed his eyes, exhausted. Pain was clouding his mind. He tried to breathe through the pain, gasping for more and more oxygen, while praying that Tréville hadn't found out about Aramis and the pregnant Queen.

 _No, he would never do this. If he has found out about it, he would be furious with Aramis. But he would not come to me and ask me about it … not in my state of health … Come on, start to think rationally ..._

Woosh, woosh, woosh …

Athos still felt his heart pulsing in his chest, much too fast, not able to slow down. He felt each beat causing him a new stab of pain in his chest.

 _But what did this woman want from Aramis? I don't recall that Aramis is seeing another married woman. Not since …_ Athos felt suddenly becoming very dizzy.

"What's … wrong … with … me …?"

He gasped while searching with his good hand for Tréville's -he had pressed it seconds before on his hurting chest, trying to massage the pain away until it eased again-, hoping that the physical contact would distract him somehow.

Suddenly Athos began to feel sick. Before he knew it his face turned even paler and his whole body started to tremble slightly. Tréville, who felt Athos' sweaty palm on his, could see Athos' face colour changing from pale to grey and he recognised the signs at once. Athos was about to throw up.

The confused plea of his officer alarmed him further, knowing that the swordsman would have never admitted that he felt miserable, if he could somehow hide it. Something was very wrong with him and he feared the worst. Was he having a set back? Was infection setting in?

"Easy, easy. I have you Athos. Let it out. Calm … I will help you … breathe …" Tréville instructed his sick officer.

Instantly, Tréville grabbed a bowl, which was standing near the head of Athos' bed with his free hand. Then he convinced Athos to let go of his other hand and helped him to roll on his left side, while supporting his back with a firm but gentle grip. The latter started to become heavily sick. The broth he had drunk earlier came back up mixed with bile. It only took several seconds but left Athos heaving breathlessly for a while afterwards. To Tréville he appeared weak as a newborn kitten after vomiting the little contents of his stomach.

Tréville was perplexed. He had not expected that reaction from Athos' body after telling him the story about Aramis having an affair with a married woman. It would have not been the first time … besides Milady had that all made up to talk to Aramis and to report what she knew.

He had no clue why Athos was suddenly so upset. It should have been a slightly amusing story, something Athos could smile about. Thus, he had hoped to find out if Milady had told him the truth or not. Was Athos sensing that the mysterious woman he was talking about was his wife?

 _It was too early, he is still not fit enough. I should have waited._ Tréville chided himself for his thoughtlessness.

The Captain gently stroked over Athos' back while the sick man was gasping for every single breath and only slowly calming down again. After several minutes he gave Tréville a sign that he wanted to roll on his back. The Captain gently helped him back on the mattress not looking away from the red-rimmed green shimmering eyes of his officer, which appeared unfocused. He then checked Athos' racing heartbeat and waited for Athos' breathing to settle down again.

"Sorr …" Athos slurred his vision blurred, he stared, dazed, at the ceiling.

"Don't be. I should have let you sleep." Tréville mumbled quietly.

"No …" Athos gasped.

"Athos, come, try to sleep." Tréville started to remove the pillows from behind Athos' back so that he could lie down again.

"Can't sleep … nightmares ... Who was … this … woman …?" He slurred needing to know what Tréville was up to.

"I don't know."

Tréville lied, hoping that Athos would believe him, but his officer was too occupied with calming his unsettled nerves again to recognise this lie. If he had been better his intelligent eyes would have discovered Tréville's rueful facial expression and sensed that something was amiss. But right now Athos was too spent to notice that Tréville's question had to do with the whole incident of his being attacked. Tréville looked confused at his ailing officer. Something had rattled him, if he only knew what it was.

 _Does he assume that it was Milady? Maybe he had to think of her? But why should he? He believes that she has left Paris days ago. Guess this pain draught is confusing his mind._

"Aramis … can be … blind … when … women ..." Athos chose his words carefully, still gasping for air and hoping to protect this way his brother's secret.

"Yes, we all know him. But do you recall his having an affair with a married woman?" Tréville asked quietly.

"No, not that ... I am … aware ... of."

Athos lied to his Captain -while telling himself that in fact it wasn't a lie, because Aramis wasn't seeing the Queen anymore- hoping that his own voice, which was now trembling slightly, wouldn't betray him, and wondering feverishly if Tréville suspected something.

 _Have I given Aramis' secret away while having a nightmare and talking in my sleep?_

He couldn't remember and it concerned him even more.

"Why?" He mumbled after several seconds.

"Who was the latest affair Aramis had with?" Tréville asked carefully.

"I think … Adele … "

Athos gasped, his head was still spinning, but the itching pain in his chest had left him again. He wanted to add something, but gulped and paused for a moment.

 _I shouldn't say the mistress of the Cardinal. Does Tréville know who Adele is? Of course he does …_

"But as far as I know … it's … over … for … months … now … Adele has … left … Paris ...," Athos slurred, his eyelids starting to droop again, his eyes feeling heavier with each passing minute. He was so tired.

 _Maybe I should simply close my eyes and fall asleep. This way I can avoid saying something wrong._

"Hmm …" Tréville considered Athos' answer.

 _Aramis had an affair with the mistress of the Cardinal. How stupid is this man …?_ Tiredly Tréville drew his hand over his face and shook exhausted his aching head.

"So … what's … all about ..." The swordsman slurred.

"Has the Cardinal ever threatened you in the past months, Athos?"

Tréville asked carefully. Well aware that Athos was about to fall asleep and was, at this moment, still too weak to hear the whole story; but he needed proof that Milady had told him the truth.

"The Cardinal is always threatening … to do something …" Athos answered triedly. "Why? Is he behind the attack on me?"

"I haven't enough evidence yet." Tréville told him cautiously. "So can you recall any occasion?"

"He hasn't threatened ... me, but I have ... threatened him …" Athos mumbled.

"When? Why?"

Tréville asked alarmed and wondered what had come over his Lieutenant to do such an imprudent thing. It was not like him.

"Several weeks … ago … Red Guards ... not … important … is … it?" Athos forced himself to direct his half opened eyes towards his Captain.

"It could be …" Tréville carefully answered.

"I doubt … that … the Cardinal … wants to … see … me dead …" Athos mumbled and his eyes closed slowly, but he was still awake.

"What did you say to him?" Tréville asked quietly.

"Not … important …" Athos whispered before giving into oblivion and falling into another exhausted sleep.

 _I guess it will be my task to judge if it is important, Athos._

Tréville shook his head, dissatisfied.

 _Am I wrong with my conclusions? Has Milady lied to me or was she telling me the truth? Has Athos provoked the Cardinal with a sharp comment so much that the latter wished to see him dead and ordered the assault on his life? I will have to question Athos further. I need to know with what he has threatened the Cardinal and why? For now I have to wait._

"Sleep, my son. We will continue our talk." He whispered quietly.

Tréville looked at his exhausted officer. The mentioning of the unknown woman and Aramis to him, had agitated him and he couldn't figure out why.

Athos moaned softly, but didn't wake up.

"Nothing for you to worry, Athos! Sleep!"

Tréville quietly mumbled while he put protectively his hand on Athos' shoulder. The injured man stayed asleep. The Captain's thoughts drifted back to his talk with Athos.

 _I had no idea that the story about a woman coming to see and speak to Aramis would upset you so much. Is that the ongoing problem between you and Aramis for weeks now? A woman? I'm glad you have fallen asleep again. I am sorry that I had to do it this way, but I needed to be sure that Milady was telling me the truth. So Athos has provoked or threatened Richelieu with a comment? Why? What has occurred that you have lost your natural indifference in front of the Cardinal, Athos? …_ _Because of Milady …?_ Tréville groaned inwardly.

He carefully cleaned Athos' beard with a warm washcloth removing the rest of the bile. Afterwards he made sure that Athos was well tucked in under all his blankets and was warm enough. The rest of the night he waited patiently next to Athos, who didn't wake again until doctor Lemay arrived in the morning to check on him.

Tréville used the passing night to sort out his thoughts, trying to figure out if Milady had really told him the truth. The more he thought about Athos' answers and the way Milady had talked to him …..Suddenly he understood the whole plot regarding the letter, Don Fernando and the Cardinal. The only thing he couldn't sort out was why Athos had suddenly become so upset. He blamed his still weak body and Aramis' foolish behaviour to Athos' reaction. Little did he know that Athos had nearly suffered a heart attack by fearing that Tréville had found out about Aramis and the Queen.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _A big thank you to Tricia for proofreading this whole chapter. xx Kira_**


	42. Chapter 42

**_Hey there,_**

 ** _thank you so much for waiting, still reading and leaving a review. Last time when I posted ff net acted up and it took several hours until my chapter appeared. Sorry for the confusion._**

 ** _Now I am back with the next chapter and I hope that the review issue has been finally solved as well by ff net._**

 ** _Many thanks to Tricia who helped me to proofread this whole chapter and to Mountain Cat for her input with some details._**

 ** _To those who I couldn't answer via pm:_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Treville has unofficially declared Athos his son with all the care he has taken with the younger Musketeer.  
And oh boy, poor Athos' confusion over what the captain was asking him about Aramis and a married lady. I actually thought that entire part rather funny because Trevvile was puzzled over his lieutenant's reaction to his question.  
_** ** _Talk about a tangled web. LOL!"_**

 ** _Thank you for your review and contacting me. FF net acted up so it was hard to post the chapter. You have me here Debbie. Maybe I don't write Tréville and Athos in canon, but I always interpret that there is a closer relationship btw the two of them. I am inspired by Athos' sentence to Aramis in s3. He was a father to us all. Anyway Tréville is a very good nurse first d'Artagnan now Athos ;-)_**

 ** _Yes, I tried to put in some comedy … well … let's see if Tréville will figure it out at one point. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To_** ** _beeblegirl_** ** _:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Poor Athos, he's going to have nightmares now thinking he has inadvertently revealed Aramis' 'indescretion' with the Queen."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review. Oh the nightmares will come, but not because of Aramis … I think so … xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara Liddell:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Excellent chapter. Treville may have worked it out, but I haven't. I hope Athos is able to move his fingers soon."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review. Lol … Tréville is the only one who has worked it out for now. I have put in several hints … but believe me they are very good and well hidden. Athos will improve. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Enjoy ch 42_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 42**

A soft slap on his cheek brought Athos back to his senses. Tiredly he opened his eyes, blinked several times, until he recognised the face of the doctor, who bent over him, waiting this time quiescent until his patient woke up completely.

"Good morning, Athos. How do you feel today?" he asked quietly, well aware that a loud noise would probably cause the injured man's head unnecessary pain.

Athos waited several seconds before answering, checking first who else was with him. The talk he had had with Tréville several hours ago, came back to his mind. He carefully started to make his own examination of how he felt. The dizziness and nausea had left him again. His head didn't spin any longer and his heartbeat had slowed down. He didn't feel cold anymore, which he was grateful for. He carefully moved his left leg and regretted it at once. His thigh started to throb again. He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment while breathing through the pain and suppressing a moan.

"Athos?" Tréville asked concerned. "Did you hear the doctor's question?"

The Lieutenant turned his head to his side so that he could see Tréville's face. His vision was less blurred now and he noticed that his commanding officer looked overtired and worried.

 _Worried because of me?_

Athos tried to answer, but he couldn't: his voice failed him, his throat was hurting him, probably from throwing up earlier. He needed something to drink. Lemay who noticed his patient's discomfort at once, reached for a cup of water.

"Drink, only slow sips." he ordered, while gently lifting his patient's head. Athos followed his order.

"Where are … the others …?" he asked tiredly, after the cup was removed from his lips.

"I suppose they are still sleeping in their rooms." Tréville informed him. "It's still very early and I have ordered them not to come here before they had breakfast. How do you feel?" Tréville repeated the doctor's question.

"Tired and sore." Athos answered finally glad that his voice reappeared.

"You will feel tired and be very sleepy for the next days." Lemay told him.

"I need to check on your wounds. May I?" he asked and waited patiently until Athos nodded his agreement.

Lemay started examining Athos' arm. After removing the bandage and prodding the stitches he stated:

"I can only repeat myself. You were very lucky. The wound doesn't show any signs of infection, but your arm is still heavily swollen. You can try to move your fingers, but don't be disappointed if they still don't move" Lemay told him. Then he added. "Captain Tréville has informed me that you could move your fingers after your arm had been injured, that's a good sign." He told Athos.

Slowly Athos tried to move his fingers but they still didn't work.

"Guess, I will have to wait then." He answered, managing holding his emotions in check.

Tréville who noticed the change in his behaviour realised that he must be feeling better.

 _When Athos starts to hide his emotions he is on the mend._

Lemay turned his back to his patient for several seconds, searching in his medical bag for an instrument. He found the long silver instrument, which had a sharp ending. He gently took Athos' right hand in his, while touching the instrument to his fingertips.

Athos flinched slightly, when he felt a sharp pain in them. Lemay stopped at once a broad smile plastered on his face.

"What?" Athos asked confused.

"You felt that this instrument caused pain in your fingertips. That's a very good sign," he explained. "Give it time, when the swelling goes down you should be able to use your hand and fingers again, but your arm will need lots of exercise to heal properly." Lemay turned around to Tréville. "Captain. I will leave his arm unbandaged for now. If you could find me some clean cloths which we can put into cold water. Then we will wrap the cool linens around Athos' arm. This way I hope we can reduce the swelling faster. It would be best to renew them whenever they are no longer cool."

Tréville stood up, walked over to the door and ordered one of the Musketeers who was standing guard to bring him a bucket with cool water. In the meantime Lemay checked on Athos' thigh.

"No signs of infection Athos here either."

He put a new layer of honey salve on the stitches and rebound the wound on his left leg with a fresh bandage. Then he felt Athos' forehead with his palm.

"You are warmer again, Athos. Another good sign. How is your pain level now?"

"I don't know." Athos answered.

"Is it worse?" Lemay asked.

"No, it is less, but still throbbing. My headache has vanished and the pain in my chest."

"Pain in your chest?" Lemay asked carefully.

"Yes, an itching pain tonight. I …" Athos paused, while Lemay lifted his shirt and put his palm on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Tréville returned to Athos' side and waited until the doctor finished his examination.

"Your heart beat is steady and slow. Sometimes blood loss can cause this kind of pain. Just make sure to drink enough broth and, if you are up to it, start to eat again." Lemay advised.

Athos nodded, exhausted, feeling tired again. While Tréville helped him to drink some more broth and then some tea, the doctor prepared the first cold compress with a bucket of fresh cool water which one of Tréville's men had brought. He carefully wrapped it around Athos' upper arm over the swollen wound, covering the stitches. When he had finished he noticed that his patient had fallen asleep again. Lemay shook his head.

"What?" Tréville asked.

"It's a wonder."

"What do you mean … his arm …"

"No!" Lemay smiled at the Captain. "That he survived. Whatever his chances will be regarding the use of his right arm again, I can't tell for now, but if infection had set in, you would now be organising a burial."

"So, he is on the mend." Tréville asked cautiously.

"I think so. Make sure to keep his arm cool, give him enough broth and let him rest." He advised.

"Thank you doctor." Tréville nodded gratefully.

"You have to thank his friends. I believe that they are the best nurses for him in this grave situation. I will be back tomorrow to check on him, but call me at once, if he gets worse. He has fought so hard, I want to make sure that he will recover completely."

"I will and thank you again." Tréville told the doctor, who packed his stuff and left.

Tréville watched Athos sleeping. His face was less pale and he had stopped moaning in his sleep. He had been quite worried after what he had watched during the night, but now he was confident that Athos would recover completely. He was sure that feeling some pain in his fingertips meant that he would recover and give him some needed hope that he would get better.

A soft knock at the door made Tréville turn his head around. Porthos opened the door and looked curiously over to the bed where his friend was sleeping.

"Morning" he whispered and then added. "How is he?"

Not waiting for Tréville to answer, he crossed the distance between the door and the bed where Athos was sleeping and carefully approached him. Tréville quietly filled him in on what the doctor just told him, while Porthos sat down on the small stool on Athos' other side. Gently he put his hand on Athos' shoulder and rested it there, needing the contact with his friend to show him that he wasn't alone.

"I can take over for now, Captain." He looked up after he had assured himself that Athos was really better.

Tréville smiled at him. After a short inspection of Porthos he noticed that the streetfighter looked much better than earlier. He still looked worried, but less tired, which was a very good sign.

"I think those hours of sleep have done you good, Porthos. You look less exhausted. Have you seen Aramis and d'Artagnan yet?"

"No, I assume they are still asleep and it's what they need right now. You were right, Captain. You should follow their example." Porthos added seeing the dark rings under Tréville's eyes.

Tréville yawned.

"I shall do follow your order." Tréville said with a small smile on his face. He appreciated Porthos' concern for him.

The Captain stood up and left knowing that Porthos would take good care of Athos and convinced that Aramis and d'Artagnan would appear very soon. He decided to catch up on some needed sleep, to prepare himself for questioning of Dona Ynes-Mancía. He hoped that his men had found and arrested her by now.

 **XXXXX**

Tréville awoke to loud sounds echoing from the courtyard up into his room. Obviously someone was screaming and shouting and it only took him a few seconds to figure out who that was. He jumped out of his bed, put on his boots and pulled on his jacket. He had been too tired earlier to change into his sleeping gown, now he was grateful for that. He didn't want to waste precious time.

He heard rushing footsteps on the landing which led to his office and then a soft knock on his door. Fabien informed him that they had arrested Dona Ynes-Mancía.

"Bring her to the canteen and let her wait there for several a while. I will come as soon as possible." He told him.

He waited a little longer well aware that the fact that the longer the woman had to wait the more furious it would make her. When he finally stepped out on the balcony and walked down the steps to the courtyard, he wasn't surprised to see d'Artagnan.

"Permission to accompany you?" he asked politely.

"How is your ankle?" Tréville answered shortly.

"Much better, Captain."

"Good. Come along, but be prepared. She will lie to us."

 _And at one point she will have a nervous breakdown._ He predicted.

"Wait for me." Porthos shouted, while rushing over to them.

"Is everything with Athos alright?" Tréville asked his voice filled with concern.

"Yes, he's still sleeping like a log. Aramis is with him. I thought I would give them both some time to themselves and I want to know what this woman has to do with the assault on Athos' life." He exclaimed angrily.

"Everything and nothing."

Tréville answered shortly while walking over to the canteen. Porthos and d'Artagnan shared a confused look, realising that their Captain knew more than they did.

 **XXXXX**

Athos woke with a start and blinked sluggishly. He heard a rustling sound next to him and felt an odd pressure on his chest. Something was resting on it- a hand checking his heartbeat.

"Aramis?" he whispered.

"I'm here, Athos. How do you feel?" The melodic, caring voice of Aramis reached his ears.

"Better, but still confused. I had a horrible night," he mumbled, while checking that only Aramis was with him.

"Why?" the medic asked, concerned.

"Maybe it was only a bad dream." Athos paused, while he gratefully accepted the cup of tea which Aramis put in his left hand . Athos managed to hold it and drink on his own.

A small progress the medic thought and smiled in satisfaction and took the cup from his friend's hand, when he started to shiver slightly. He was still very weak.

"Thought Tréville found out about you and …" he gulped, not saying her name, but Aramis understood at once. "Thought my heart would jump … out of … my chest …" he admitted while sluggishly putting his left hand on his chest, where he had felt the itching pain.

Aramis gently put it in his own and pressed the now warmer skin gently.

"I've just checked on your heartbeat. Everything is fine with it. Your wounds are healing properly, no signs of infection. No need to worry, Athos." Aramis explained quietly. "Why do you think Tréville knows?" Aramis asked.

"He told me a story about a woman in the courtyard asking for you. She told Serge that she wanted to warn you because her envious husband had threatened to kill you."

"Oh?" Aramis exclaimed.

"Are you sure Tréville told you this tonight?" Aramis asked quietly. "Maybe you are mixing a dream up with reality," he added.

"No." Athos mumbled. "Maybe it was a bad dream … everything is blurred … I …" He let his head roll to the side and searched Aramis' brown eyes. "I … am endangering you … with … my …"

"Shhh … Athos …" Aramis calmed his friend. "Everything is alright … well … will be alright …" Aramis added while looking at his ailing friend.

"How can you say that?"

"Because I know you. You will never tell my secret … even in your miserable state …" He shook his head.

"I doubt that Tréville suspects anything. He would have approached me and not you. I can assure you he would yell at me, but he would never ask you. Not now, not like this …" Aramis paused and gently stroked over his friend's hair, feeling Athos leaning into his touch a little more. "Tréville is a very direct person … you know that … He would never upset you. Your body still needs a lot of rest in order to heal." Aramis smiled again, wondering how he could comfort his friend.

Athos was obviously better, but still not well enough to stand up on his own and walk around. He knew it would take time for Athos to recover completely. Even if he had not heard about Athos' arm and the prospect that it would heal again, his friend would have a long way ahead to recover. He would help to exercise his arm each day and he was prepared to stay by his side during the road to recovery.

"Where … are … the others …?" Athos mumbled still feeling spent and tired.

"Questioning Dona Ynes-Mancía. Tréville ordered us to arrest her and her uncle. They brought her here earlier. Don Fernando was found dead, late last night, stabbed to death in a dark alley after he had identified Juan." he quietly told Athos.

"Strange …" Athos answered. "I still can't figure out … why …" He paused again, feeling his arm throbbing and waiting for the pain to die down while breathing through it.

"Maybe the Captain will find out." Aramis explained. "Athos?"

"Hmmm …" The swordsman answered.

"I wanted to thank you … for saving … my life …" Aramis said quietly.

Aramis locked eyes with Athos' and the latter started to blink heavily. He knew that Athos was about to fall asleep again.

"How's … head …?" The swordsman asked sluggishly while forcing his green eyes to stay open.

"Much better. Tréville was right. I needed my own bed and some hours of sleep," he chuckled softly.

"Glad … to hear … and no … need to … thank … I have … to …" Athos slurred and drifted off back to sleep.

Aramis gently stroked over his friend's curly hair a little longer, then he bent over his face and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, whispering in his ear:

"I needed to thank you, you risked your life for me. I was such a stubborn fool. You need to get better _mon ami_."

 **XXXXX**

Tréville seated himself opposite Dona Ynes-Mancía who glared angrily at him.

"I want to know why you are keeping me here? Why am I arrested? What have I done?" she shouted angrily her blue eyes fixed on Tréville's face. "You have no right …" she wanted to end her sentence, but couldn't.

Tréville having enough of her loud screaming and shouting, thumped his right fist on the wooden table, regretting it instantly and cursing to himself when he felt a sharp pain in his knuckles.

"Enough." he shouted angrily at her. "I have every right to question and hold you here. You are involved in a conspiracy to commit treason and nearly murder on one of my soldiers. I could let you hang for this." His voice had gone from calm to a thundering storm.

D'Artagnan and Porthos shared a short questioning look, wondering what this woman had to do with Athos being injured, while the young woman started to laugh out loud.

"You have a vivid imagination, Captain. I can't wait until my uncle comes to free me. I will complain officially about your behaviour to the King. Be aware that I am related to the Queen of France." She mocked.

"The King ordered your questioning in person and your uncle won't be able to come and help you - he is dead." Tréville answered coldly, his blue eyes now sparkling dangerously.

Dona Ynes-Mancía turned pale.

"You are a liar!" she shouted suddenly hysterical, realising in what unpleasant situation she was now in and trying to figure out if the Captain of the Musketeers was telling her the truth.

"I am not!" Tréville answered her loudly. "So the only way you can help yourself right now is by starting to tell me the truth and I mean the whole truth. Not another lie."

"I won't say anything. I will wait for my uncle's servant Juan. I know he is here in Paris." She crossed her arms and looked challengingly at Tréville.

"He won't be able to come either, madame," d'Artagnan interrupted. "He tried to murder my friends here at the garrison yesterday and was killed while failing to fulfill his dreadful deed." he added coldly. His brown eyes locked with the eyes of the young woman.

Dona Ynes-Mancía jumped to her feet. Porthos could see her blue eyes suddenly widening in her face. They resembled the expression of a frightened wild deer freezing finitially when hearing a poacher approaching it. Pure horror was written all over her face. She took some unsteady steps towards d'Artagnan lifting both of her hands first to her face, but then she gathered herself and tried instead to hit the young Gascon. However her legs gave away under her and she dropped on the floor, starting to sob hysterically. She shouted over and over again:

"Liar! Murderer!"

Porthos cringed inwardly at the reaction of this young woman. Again he wondered what this woman had to do with the assault on Athos' life.

"Either you tell us what you know or you will be brought to the Bastille."

Tréville shouted, wondering if this woman was a good actress or if she was really mourning. He shared a look with d'Artagnan, who knelt down and lifted the young woman with a firm grip back on her feet ignoring his still hurting palms while he pressed her down on the chair.

"This is your last chance." D'Artagnan growled angrily, having enough of this whole charade.

The woman stared coldly with her ice blue eyes into the young man's face. Then a bright grin appeared on her lips and she was ready to spit at the young Gascon, only his fast reaction prevented him of getting wet.

"I won't say a word. I don't believe a word you say. Both my uncle and Juan are still alive. You have kidnapped me and are holding me here in the hope that I will reveal something to you," she screamed angrily, while struggling to free herself from d'Artagnan's strong hands.

She pressed her lips together and didn't open her mouth again. Tréville tried to talk to her for five more minutes, but when she ignored him, he decided that he wouldn't get an answer from her this way.

 _Then the hard way it is._ He sighed.

"Porthos, you will accompany me and this young woman to the morgue. "I'm sure she will find her voice again after we have proven to her that we are telling her the truth."

"I can come with you." D'Artagnan offered while other Musketeers helped the young woman out of the canteen.

"No, d'Artagnan, your ankle still needs time to heal, besides Aramis will be grateful to have you around to help with Athos' care." He told him.

Porthos waited until Dona Ynes-Mancía was out of earshot.

"Captain, do you think she is involved in the attack on Athos' life?" Porthos asked.

"I know that her uncle had ordered the assault." Tréville told both of his soldiers, who looked astonished at him.

"Why?" d'Artagnan wanted to know.

"I'm still trying to figure that out. Alas, with Don Fernando dead, all evidence seems to be lost. The only person who can confirm it now is Dona Ynes-Mancía, but I'm sure she will start to talk once she sees that we are not lying to her regarding her uncle and Juan.

 **XXXXX**

When they arrived at the morgue Tréville ordered the mortician to show Dona Ynes-Mancía the deceased men. First the priest lifted the white linen where her dead uncle was lying. The young woman gasped when she saw the dead body, but didn't move, looking, paralysed, at the pale face of her dead uncle.

"Will you tell me now, what I want to know?" Tréville stepped next to her and asked her again. She shook her head rebelliously. Tréville sighed. "I wanted to spare you the second sight, but if you insist," he quietly added.

They all walked several steps further to another table. Tréville gave the priest another sign and he lifted the linen in which Juan had been wrapped. Dona Ynes-Mancía gasped out loud. A lone scream left her mouth, then she turned pale and if it hadn't been for Porthos' fast reaction she would have dropped like a stone on the cold floor of the morgue.

"She's fainted."

Porthos informed his Captain, while trying to hold her in an upright position. The streetfighter looked over at the dead man he had to shoot yesterday in order to save both of his brothers. While still holding the unconscious woman, he took a closer look at the dead man. The day before he hadn't had the time to concentrate on him, but today he could observe the attacker better. He had the stature of a soldier. A long scar on his cheek. Definitely a man who was used to fighting. He shuddered when he realised how close this man had been to murdering Athos and Aramis.

"Come." Tréville laid a hand on his shoulder, pressing it gently, knowing exactly what Porthos was thinking about. "Let's bring this woman to another room, where we can question her. If she still persists in saying nothing I will make sure that she will end up in the Bastille."

Porthos nodded and followed his Captain.

 **XXXXX**

"Do you believe us now?" Tréville asked Dona Ynes-Mancía who had woken up several minutes earlier, but was still pale. Tréville pressed a cup of water into her hands and asked her to drink and, still confused, she followed his order. "Speak, and I make sure that you can return to Spain," he added a little softer this time.

Dona Ynes-Mancía started to sob, tears were running down her face.

"You killed him. Why?" she stuttered.

 _She hasn't said them, but him and she was more shocked seeing Juan dead than her uncle. Could it be …_ Porthos listened carefully, then he paused in his thoughts to answer her.

"He didn't leave me any other choice." Porthos told her quietly. "He attacked my friends and wanted to kill them."

Dona Ynes-Mancía gulped.

"If he only had stayed and let my uncle deal with everything." she whispered. "We would be on our way to Italy already …"

"We cannot turn back time." Tréville sat down next to her. "It was his choice to trespass in the garrison and to attack two of my men. What I want to know is why? Was it something personal he had against my Lieutenant?"

"Who?" Dona Ynes-Mancía's head was swirling.

She was still absorbing the news that Porthos had killed Juan and the fact that this man was in the same room with her made her suddenly furious. She wanted to get up, but another Musketeer pressed her down onto the chair she was sitting on, holding her down with a firm grip.

"Tell us and we can arrange that you return as a free person to Spain." Tréville told her again.

"Alright, I will tell you what I know, but I want him to leave first. He killed Juan." She angrily pointed at Porthos' chest.

Tréville thought for a moment what he should do, but Pothos was faster than him, sensing that this woman must have been in love with Juan.

"Permission to return to the garrison, Captain?" Porthos asked Tréville and the latter nodded shortly.

 _If this is the only way she will tell me the truth than Porthos is right to leave. I don't like to negotiate with the people who are behind the assault on Athos' life, but I need more evidence._

After Porthos had left, closing the door behind him, Tréville asked for the last time.

"Tell me what you know! Now! This is your last chance to not end up in a dark, cold prison cell and I mean it. I can arrange it that no one ever will know where you are kept." Tréville ordered in a sharp tone, having no sympathy for this woman. Dona Ynes-Manciá, realising that she had no other choice, started to talk in a quiet and broken voice.

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	43. Chapter 43

_**Hey there,**_

 _ **I am back with the next chapter.**_

 _ **Thank you for still reading my story and your lovely and kind comments.**_

 _ **I dedicate this chapter to Mountain Cat. Happy belated birthday to you and thank you so much for your ideas. A massive thank you goes out to Tricia as well who has put in several hours of her precious time in this chapter again to proofread it. All remaining mistakes are mine not hers!**_

 _ **To be honest without the both of you I would have already given up on this story. So thank you xx**_

 _ **I want to thank those of you who left an encouraging, supportive and kind review as well. Due to the fact that I have no idea if my pms have reached you, I will do it here.**_

* * *

 _ **Barbara:**_

 _ **"Another excellent chapter. It's good to have Athos more like his old self but he still has a long way to go. And is Treville's hand ok after he banged it do hard on the table? Poor man xx"**_

 _ **Thank you for your kind words, Barbara. Yes Athos finally starts to get better. Well, I hope so … ;-). Tréville's hand should be alright. xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **Debbie:**_

 _ **"I actually enjoy Treville treating Athos like a son. On the show you knew he favored the inseparables and d'Art but he always tried not to show it outwardly, so your portrayal is a nice change.**_  
 _ **And I do hope Lemay's words have helped Athos. At least the man knows that his arm could possibly return back to normal. Then Athos tries to tell Aramis that he was afraid that he's let it slip out about the marksman's tryst with the queen. I think that should be the last thing on the man's mind.**_  
 _ **Oh Dona Ynes-Mancia is a piece of work. I won't tell you what type of *piece* I think she is, but you get the general gist of it. She had to see the dead with her own eyes and a threat of the Bastille to make her finally talk and I do hope it's the truth."**_

 _ **Thank you so much Debbie. I am glad that you like my characterization of Athos and Tréville. I think Lemay's words have helped Athos. About Athos worrying about Aramis and if he had somehow give away the secret … well, you know Athos. He always puts his friends first, even if he feels miserable. Oh, yes Ynes-Mancía is a very self-centered and selfish person. I don't like her at all … xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **Mountain Cat:**_

 _ **""Everything and nothing." Nice way to talk in riddles Captain."**_

 _ **Thank you MC. Lol yes "everything and nothing" … he knows a lot by now, but he needs to talk to Athos first. He doesn't want to accuse someone before he doesn't have enough evidence. They will come to this "everything and nothing" later. Promise! xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **pallysd'Artagnan :**_

 _ **"Athos is starting to feel a tad bit better yesssss.. Yet we dont know why that freakin nut cake went went after Athos in the first place hope Treville throws her deep down in Bastille when he finds out the reason .."**_

 _ **Thank you so much Pally. Lol your was the first review that came through to me via an email.**_

 _ **Oh yes, Athos feels better, but is he already better …**_

 _ **The plot is complicated but they will figure it out.**_

 _ **I am afraid but I think Tréville cannot throw her in the Bastille … the Queen will intervene. She is her cousin … xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **Pippa19 :**_

 _ **"I hate that Donna girl! Athos seems to be recovering well for now. Love him and Aramis together."**_

 _ **Thank you for your review, Pippa. Oh yes Dona Ynes is a nasty person. Athos is on the mend … I think … Glad you liked the part between Athos and Aramis. There will be more talk between them. xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **Buckeye01**_

 _ **"Ooooh, I love an angry Papa Treville! Can't wait for more!"**_

 _ **Thank you for your kind words, Buckeye. I love Tréville in an angry mode too as long as our favourite Musketeers don't have to deal with his anger. xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **Greenlips24**_

 _ **"It took some doing, getting Dona-Ynes to talk but her will is broken now and Treville will finally have the missing piece of this puzzle. Good tension - I wanted to shake her!"**_

 _ **Thank you for your review, Greenlips. Yes, Tréville needed to show her the dead men, before Ynes-Mancía finally started to talk. Glad you liked the tension I tried to build up. More between Dona Ynes and Tréville will be in ch 44. xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **vmariew:**_

 _ **"It has been a long road for poor Athos but at last there are clear signs of recovery, including feeling in his fingers! A worrying moment or two for him when he fears that he has betrayed Aramis but is reasonably reassured. Sleep has been of benefit for them all to face the next hurdle ie to question their prisoner and at last get to the truth that has evaded them on this rollercoaster of a journey. Perhaps now the tide is turning for them all. Oops, apologies for mixing the metaphors there! I look forward to the next chapter in the midst of your other work."**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your review, V. Yes, Athos should be now on the road to recovery … Love your mixing of metaphors ;-) xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **More guessing is going on in this chapter, including a flashback that might reveal some important facts why Athos had been attacked.**_

 _ **Enjoy**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Chapter 43**

"Has he been awake?"

Porthos whispered quietly, after entering the infirmary and greeting his brothers, still fearing that Athos would be mad with him because of what had occurred during the night. When Dona Ynes-Mancía had asked him to leave he hadn't been unhappy about that fact. He wanted to know how Athos was doing and he needed a moment on his own with him to clear the air.

"No, he is still hibernating like a hedgehog." Aramis answered him, sensing that Porthos wanted to talk to Athos in private. He smiled at him while his eyes told Porthos to stop worrying about last night.

"Even the cool cloth we are changing permanently on his upper arm doesn't seem to bother or wake him." D'Artagnan added. His voice told Porthos enough. The young man hoped that his mentor would finally waken up and open his eyes.

"Any luck with Dona Ynes-Mancía?" Aramis wondered, while busying himself with putting a new cold, wet cloth on Athos' still swollen arm, gently wrapping it around the damaged skin.

"She didn't want to talk when she found out that I killed Juan." Porthos quietly told them. "That's why I returned early. I hope that she will now finally shed some light into the darkness and we can figure out who is behind all of this."

He pointed a little helplessly to their sleeping fourth, then he stretched his arms and walked over to a chair, where he dropped down, reluctantly removing his weapon belt and tossing it onto the floor.

"Not so loud." Aramis chided him.

"I thought hibernating animals don't wake up from loud sounds." Porthos said with a short snort needing this kind of banter right now to ease the tension.

"I think Tréville knows more than he is letting on. But why?" D'Artagnan asked.

The young man was sitting on a bed next to Athos'. He had encircled one bent leg with both of his arms, while his injured leg was hanging over the corner of the bed not touching the floor. His chin rested on his good knee.

"Of course Tréville knows more." Aramis answered him thoughtfully. "Maybe he still hasn't gathered enough evidence yet to make any accusation that's why he is waiting to inform us about his thoughts." He mused aloud.

Porthos nodded towards him:

"I got the impression that this Dona Ynes-Mancía was in love with Juan." Porthos mumbled.

"What makes you think that?" Aramis asked curiously.

"She fainted after Tréville showed her his dead body."

"Woah!" Aramis exclaimed. "That's not like Tréville, confronting a woman with a dead corpse. Perhaps she was simply shocked seeing a dead man for the first time. She is a noblewoman." Aramis answered.

"She stayed calm seeing her dead uncle. No, there was more between her and this Juan. Believe me, Tréville had no other choice. She refused to talk to us and we are running out of options. With Don Fernando dead the leads as to who is behind the attack on Athos' life are vanishing further." Porthos explained Tréville's behaviour.

"I thought Dona Ynes-Mancía has a fiancé. From what I have heard they were on their way to Italy where she should marry an Italian nobleman." D'Artagnan interrupted him.

"Let me guess - with an important title, wealth and power." Aramis turned his head towards their youngest member, who only shrugged.

"But what has this to do with the fact that Don Fernando ordered the assault on Athos? And why had Juan risked his life to try it again, when Don Fernando's hired assassins failed the first time?" Porthos asked, confused.

"Maybe it has to do with Athos' former life as the Comte de la Fère. Perhaps he knows something about the Italian nobleman ..." Aramis mused.

"Don't you think he would have already told us if he knew Don Fernando or this fiancé?" D'Artagnan shook unbelievingly his head. "I doubt that Athos' former life as a Comte has to do anything with this. If I had to guess it must have to do something with this stupid letter he was to bring to or back from _Château de Fontainebleau._ " he added.

"Maybe he overheard a plot to murder someone? Maybe Spain has planned an assault on King Louis' life?" Porthos suggested still not convinced about the other theories.

"Believe me, Athos would have told us that." Aramis disagreed with him.

"And what if his confused mind simply couldn't remember. Blood loss can lead to forgetting things." Porthos argued.

"No, he has remembered other things. He even could tell me more about the letter. Believe me, there is something else going on." Aramis stepped away from Athos' side to put down the now warm bandages.

"I don't understand it. We have to ask Athos or even better the Captain. He knows more. I wonder why he hasn't already shared his theory with us?"

D'Artagnan carefully sat up from his bed, moved over to the corner and made his way to the small stool on Athos' left side. Sitting down with a suppressed whimper, he gently laid his hand on Athos' good shoulder, searching his friend's face for any sign that indicate that he would wake soon.

"Why do I have the feeling that the Cardinal is somehow involved in this whole plot?" Porthos asked suddenly into the awkward silence which had occurred when d'Artagnan had shifted his position.

"Because it was him who gave Tréville the order that only one of us would be needed to deliver the missive." Aramis answered slowly, pulling his hand through his thick brown hair and resting his aching head for several seconds in his palms.

"Don Fernando, Juan, Dona Ynes-Mancía, an Italian fiancé, the Cardinal … I cannot see the connection." Porthos shook his head and started to pace from one corner of the room to the other.

"There had to be another letter." D'Artagnan said in a firm tone.

"Gauthier told me earlier that the letter Athos was to bring back to the palace and which mysteriously ended up with the Queen was only a formal letter. Dona Ynes-Mancía was thanking the Queen for the invitation, but apologising as well, because she wouldn't be able to attend her party." Aramis informed his brothers.

"And you are telling this us now?" Porthos shook his head, unbelievingly.

"He told me while you were gone." Aramis explained.

"Does the Captain know?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Yes, Gauthier has filled him in on the whole story which took place at the palace. A stranger, most probable a woman, brought the letter -which had Athos' blood on it- to the palace." Aramis quietly started to report the whole story, but was interrupted.

"A woman?" D'Artagnan and Porthos asked in unison.

"Do you know her name? Was it Dona Ynes-Mancía?" D'Artagnan asked curiously while Porthos asked simultaneously:

"Are you sure it was the letter that Athos was to take back? And who delivered it?"

"That's what Gauthier has heard. I have no idea who this woman … this person who brought the letter was. Let me continue …" Aramis answered them and the two Musketeers remained silent for the rest of his report.

"So Dona Ynes-Mancía was simply excusing herself that she wouldn't be able from attending the Queen's party and because of this message Athos was shot at and nearly died?" Porthos angrily shook his head after Aramis had finished his report.

"I'm sorry I don't know more details. Maybe you are right, Porthos. Perhaps the link is Spain and Athos being injured has nothing to do with the letter at all." Aramis mumbled. "Perhaps the Queen tried to reach out to her brother secretly. The fact that Cardinal Richelieu had engaged an assassin to kill her, has shaken her deeply."

Aramis stood up and walked over to a window to open it and let some fresh air into the humid infirmary, making sure that his brothers wouldn't see the concern on his face while thinking about the pregnant Queen.

"You really think she wants to leave France?" D'Artagnan wondered aloud.

"She has no reason to do so. She is pregnant with the heir to France." Porthos said gazing at Aramis, who still looked out of the open window and breathed in the fresh warm air.

"Only if her child will be a boy." Aramis interjected turning round to his friends, his glance resting on Athos. "She has tried for many years to become pregnant. Even lost a child." Aramis voice was filled with compassion. "What if she has a girl? Maybe she fears for her own life and that of her unborn child"

"Don't be ridiculous, Aramis." Porthos snorted. "She is with child. It would be different if she wasn't with child right now or if the child was not the King's, but I believe those holy waters helped her to get finally pregnant." the streetfighter told him.

Aramis paled suddenly, swayed dangerously and took some unsteady steps forward. Porthos who noticed that Aramis wasn't well, launched forward and steadied his brother with his strong arms, leading him carefully to the next chair and helping him to sit down.

"Easy, my friend. It's enough that Athos is collapsing lately so often, no need for you to follow his example." he chided him. "You should take it easy for a while and lie down again. Your head was hit hard.

"I am fine." Aramis gasped not noticing how d'Artagnan and Porthos both shook their heads at his statement, not believing a word of what he just told them. His pale face testified to the contrary.

"Alright, let's assume that Queen Anne really wanted to contact her brother in Spain. Wouldn't it be much easier for her to send one of her ladies-in-waiting - most of them are from Spain- to the Spanish ambassador here in Paris? It would be less complicated than to contact this Don Fernando." D'Artagnan explained.

"You are right." Aramis mumbled, still pale around his nose.

"But why would the Cardinal want to see Athos dead?" Porthos asked while searching in the room for something to eat. When he spotted a plate with some fresh bread and cheese he walked over and started to eat.

"I … threatened … him …"

Athos answered, barely audible, his voice rough, his eyes still closed. He had woken several minutes earlier, when he had felt d'Artagnan's hand on his shoulder. It had taken him awhile to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

At first he had only heard scraps of conversation, but soon he had followed their conversation as they guessed who was behind the attack on his life. That the Cardinal was somehow involved made sense to Athos, but he couldn't come up with a logical reason or explanation. When Porthos nearly found out about Aramis' secret he had caught his breath.

He needed to have an explanation for his friends as to why the Cardinal wanted to see him dead, even if he had still no clue how the Cardinal would have known which of his Musketeers Tréville would have sent to _Château de Fontainebleau._ What kind of game was Richelieu playing again and why did he felt like a pawn being moved forward and backward on a chess board in order to protect a more important figure?

Feverishly he thought about an answer that would distract his friends from the topic of Queen Anne and her unborn child. It took him several more minutes but finally he knew what he could tell his brothers. He still wasn't sure what role the Cardinal had played by the attack on his life, but Tréville had asked him the same question last night so that he was sure that his Captain assumed that the Cardinal was behind everything.

A heavy silence settled in the room after Athos had spoken the three words. Now three pairs of brown eyes stared at him. Athos' face was still pale, he looked worn out and his curly hair was ruffled. Aramis was the first to react while Athos' eyes still stayed closed.

"Who?" Aramis asked, a little confused.

"The Cardinal … maybe … he fears …" Athos sluggishly opened his eyes and turned his head towards Aramis, whose hand had found its way back into Athos' hair, stroking it gently.

"What are … you … doing …?" Athos mumbled.

"Discussing who has done this to you, _mon ami_ , so that we can protect you from further harm." Aramis explained softly, wondering how much Athos had heard of their talk.

"I know that … No … your hand …" Athos tried to glare angrily at Aramis, but failed when another sharp pain in his leg left him breathless and made him struggle for air.

"I am trying to comfort you, _mon ami_."Aramis sighed, but not letting go of Athos' hair, continuing to massage his friend's scalp gently until he had calmed down again. He then removed his hand, knowing that Athos wanted to have more space for himself.

"Water …?"

Athos whispered and this time it was Porthos, who stepped up to his left side, gave the cup into d'Artagnan's hands, who then helped Athos to take some sips.

"Better?" Porthos asked from the background and Athos nodded sluggishly. For a moment their eyes met and Athos noticed the guilty look on his brother's face. He frowned:

"Porthos?" he asked quietly with a questioning look on his face.

"You want more water?" Porthos tried to ignore Athos' scrutiny. The swordsman could read him so easily.

"Any chance of a cup of wine?" Athos replied not looking away from Porthos' dark eyes, sensing that his brother wanted to say something, but only to him.

"Not for the next few days." Aramis chided him from the other side. "So, why would the Cardinal want to see you dead? What do you think the Cardinal fears?"

Aramis asked with his calm voice sensing that Porthos and Athos needed to talk about what had happened the previous evening. However, he didn't want to wait another several hours before he would have a chance to ask Athos again. Now his friend was awake. Now he could give them all some needed answers and he had started to talk about it and so Aramis pressed on.

"It's nothing … I might be wrong …" Athos evaded Aramis' unwavering gaze and yawned triedly.

"Tell us about it and let us be the judge if it could be a reason for the Cardinal to give the order to kill you." Aramis intervened. His voice now louder and more demanding than earlier. "How did you threaten him? Why? When?" he repeated the questions.

"The more I think about it, the more I doubt that …"

"Athos!" Porthos looked at his ailing friend. "Why don't you simply start from the beginning?"

"Aramis is right. Let's hear your story and then we can all decide if this would be a reason for the Cardinal to order an attack on you." D'Artagnan gently added.

"Very well." Athos sighed. "I had an encounter with him several days ago and it was not a friendly encounter." He added.

"What happened? Start from the beginning." Aramis encouraged him, while helping his friend to drink some more water first. Athos thanked the medic with a grateful gesture that he could put the cup away again, then he cleared his throat and started from the beginning, while his friends were listening to his weak but calm voice.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Flashback - Several days ago_**

Athos was in a bad mood. If he had to blame someone, he would have named Aramis. The whole afternoon he had had palace guard with him and on their way back to the garrison the medic had tried to sneak into the Queen's quarters to find a moment in private to chat with the Queen.

"Aramis! What are you doing? You know that it endangers her, you, me …" he had angrily shouted at him, after he had dragged him out of the palace followed by some curious glances from some servants and ladies-in-waiting.

"Leave me alone." Aramis had angrily answered and then returned to his horse. For a moment Athos had considered following him on Roger back to the garrison, but then he decided it would be better to calm down and so he had set off in the direction of the _Jardin du Luxembourg_ to clear his head. He had left Roger near to the entrance and strolled through the large garden. He passed a spot where he used to play tennis with Porthos sometimes. Next to him was a fountain with bubbling water, and in the distance he could hear a metallic noise. He knew this sound: swords clashing together.

Curious and still thinking about what he could do to stop his enamoured friend from doing something stupid he walked towards the sound. The nearer he came, he could see that a fight was going on. Two young Musketeers were having a duel with four Red Guards, two of them were already lying wounded on the sandy ground.

 _This can't be true. Tréville has forbidden us any kind of duel. When he finds out ... Am I surrounded by fools lately?_

But the worst was still to come. Before Athos could reach the two young Musketeers, who had been commissioned by the King one year ago, several riders approached the fighters at a fast gallop. More Red Guards caught the two men off guard, quickly disarmed them with fast moves and arrested them, so that they were now lying next to each other on the dusty ground. A man wearing black clothes dismounted his horse: the Cardinal.

Athos knew that he had to act fast or their regiment would have to deal with two Musketeers who would be publicly hanged. Something which would fall back on Tréville and would weaken his position as a Captain for his men and at Court. He was sure that the Cardinal would be delighted to tell the King, while Tréville was with them, that he hadn't his soldiers under control.

"What have we here?" he heard Richelieu's loud voice, looking down at the two men, who were still lying on the floor - two Red Guards were sitting on them. "Haven't you heard that dueling is forbidden by the order of the King? You know what that means." He grinned, then he shouted to his Red Guards: "Bring them both to the Châtelet and inform the Captain of the Musketeers." Then he looked down at the injured men and pointed at them "And make sure that you bandage their wounds, they are spilling their blood everywhere." Disgusted he looked away. The Cardinal turned his head around when he heard Athos' rapid footsteps approaching. "Oh, look who comes here." He shouted with a snort.

"Cardinal. I am sorry to interrupt you, but can we have a word in private?" Athos politely asked, his voice calm, his eyes fixed on Richelieu's.

"I don't have time now. As you can see, two of your men have defied the King's order. Dueling is forbidden and must be punished immediately.

"I am convinced that this is all a huge misunderstanding." Athos looked down at the two Musketeers, then he looked back to the Cardinal and made a sign asking him to step several paces away so that the other Red Guards couldn't hear them talking.

The Cardinal ignored him.

"With all due respect, it would be better if we could clear this misunderstanding up here and now." Athos said, still in a calm voice, but his eyes told the Cardinal that he wouldn't allow him to walk away from this.

"What is it what you want from me?" Richelieu felt that Athos was going to say something he wouldn't want his men to hear and so he followed Athos as they both walked several steps away.

"Let them go. Talk to your Red Guards and make sure that they say this was a training exercise here in the _Jardin du Luxembourg_ , not a duel." Athos demanded, as if he had the power to order such a thing.

"Why should I do that?" Richelieu mocked him.

"I am sure that my men were provoked by your men. Do you want us investigating and accusing your men, so that they will end with the death penalty instead?" Athos answered calmly.

"I don't see this happening." Richelieu laughed aloud. "There are only two Musketeers and four - no wait - ten Red Guards. They will all be able to testify against your men, Lieutenant."

"And what if your men challenged ours in a tavern and other men have overheard it? Why do you think I have turned up here?" Athos interupted, hoping that his bluff would work.

"They wouldn't dare to talk against my Red Guards." Richelieu stepped away from Athos, ready to give the Red Guards orders to take the two arrested Musketeers away.

"I am still convinced that this is a misunderstanding." Athos stated firmly. His voice still calm, he continued. "Or would you like me to talk to King Louis about your orders regarding a female assassin, ordering …"

"Be quiet." Richelieu paled and turned angrily around. "Are you threatening me, Athos of the Musketeers?" He observed Athos' expression with his grey eyes.

The young Musketeer's Lieutenant only repeated.

"I would never do that, your eminence." Athos said firmly. "Nevertheless, I'm sure that is a huge misunderstanding. This was a training exercise. I came here to check on how the training between our two regiments worked out." Athos bowed his head slightly.

Richelieu waited for several seconds. He knew Athos very well. The Lieutenant was a capable Musketeer and a loyal officer. His admiration for his Captain would even encourage him to threaten him with informing the King about his plan in ordering the assassination of the Queen - if only to protect Tréville from the public execution of two of his Musketeers.

"A training exercise … you might be right …" Richelieu breathed heavily through his nose. Then he turned around to his Red Guards: "Let them go - it was a misunderstanding."

Confused, the Red Guards followed the Cardinal's order. The two young Musketeers were freed. A little unsteady they stood up and looked for their swords, which were lying nearby. Athos gave them a sign to follow him. Richelieu walked over to his horse and mounted.

Without looking back, Athos walked away from the Cardinal and his soldiers, the two young men following in his wake, matching his rapid pace. When the first Musketeer dared to open his mouth to speak Athos said in a low but deadly voice: "Not a word, not a damn word! Not to the Captain, not to any other Musketeer. You will come to me tomorrow morning and I will give you an extra task."

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Infirmary, present time_**

"Richelieu could have taken my words as a threat." Athos finished his report. Of course, he had left out why he had been so mad with Aramis. "It's only … a guess … I …" Athos gasped feeling the throbbing wound on his arm. "I could be wrong …" he slurred.

"Are you nuts?" Aramis shouted suddenly. "He is dangerous and powerful! Your words were a threat! If Richelieu fears that you could be a threat to his power, he is more than capable of ordering your …" Aramis put his face in his hands again, feeling his head throbbing more and more.

"Aramis!" Porthos chided him. "Not now! He's in no condition for this. Can't you see he's still in pain?" Porthos stood up and moved closer to his ailing brother, suddenly feeling the need to protect Athos from any further agitation.

Athos moaned aloud when he felt his body trembling slightly. That his brothers had started to argue because of his explanation wasn't what he had intended and, if he had to be honest, he doubted that his words had threatened the Cardinal so badly, that he had ordered an attempt on his life.

Milady had left Paris, the Queen was with child. France would most probable have an heir to the throne in several months. These were the things that mattered to the Cardinal - not a single Musketeer who told him that he knew about a woman who had been in his service. For the Cardinal only France, power and safety mattered and Athos was no threat to this but served the King loyally and Richelieu knew that. Or was he wrong? Had he misjudged his words and was this the revenge of the Cardinal? Ninon had once warned him of the Cardinal. Were Tréville and Aramis right?

His head started to throb while he wondered anew if the Cardinal had ordered an attack on his life. He thought hard about it but couldn't find an answer as to the why. Something didn't fit and his aching head didn't help him to think clearly. His eyes wandered over to Porthos, who had helped him to avoid going into any further detail and they rested on his brother's face. His eyes looked sadly at him, filled with guilt.

"Pain potion?" Aramis asked feeling horrible that he might have upset Athos with his words.

"No." Athos shook his head exhausted. Their eyes locked for a moment and Aramis could see the confusion in them. Finally, Athos' green eyes wandered back to Porthos. "Tell me … what is … it …?" he asked reaching for Porthos with his left hand, but he couldn't reach him. It landed on d'Artagnan's knee instead, who pressed it gently.

"Nothing. It can wait. Pain potion and more sleep and no wine it is for now!" Porthos said in an earnest tone.

"Porthos?" Athos tried again.

"Come, d'Artagnan. We will go and ask for some more broth." Aramis gave d'Artagnan a sign.

"Why? There is still enough broth for …"

D'Artagnan tried to protest still looking at his ailing brother and not towards Aramis, who tried to give him a discreet sign to give Athos and Porthos some time to talk on their own.

"It's cold." Aramis said. "Now, come, I will need your help."

He ordered in a firm voice and d'Artagnan followed him reluctantly. After Aramis had closed the door behind them, an awkward silence settled between Porthos and Athos.

"Well?" Athos tried again after waiting several minutes, while Porthos had started to walk around the infirmary until he found the perfect spot at a window and stared outside into the courtyard, observing young recruits at their training session and realising that it was another beautiful, warm day.

"Well, what? You should close your eyes and sleep again. Your body needs rest." Porthos said not turning around.

"I will rest when we have talked. What is bothering you? I can see it in your eyes - something is wrong." Athos told him quietly.

Porthos didn't move, but continued to look out of the window, staring into the blue sky. He waited several seconds, then he sighed and walked back to Athos' left side, sat on the stool and observed his brother's red rimmed eyes closely.

Athos stayed silent, waiting for Porthos to begin. Another sigh escaped Porthos' lips and then he put his warm hand on Athos' shoulder like d'Artagnan had done minutes earlier. Athos didn't evade his touch, but accepted it.

"I have to apologise." Porthos told him in a firm voice, locking eyes with his still weak brother.

"Why?" Athos frowned.

"I lost it last night. Have you already forgotten that I shouted at you? I shouldn't … I nearly made you leave your bed …" Porthos felt moisture gathering in his eyes.

"I scared myself and you …" Athos answered, barely audible. "You have no reason to apologise. On the contrary, it is I who should apologise, Porthos." Athos looked with a pained expression into Porthos' teary eyes.

"Don't do this ever again to me … to us …" Porthos breathed out aloud. "Do you hear me? Don't ever tell me you wish to die. I don't want to lose you, I will always fight for you, because you are my friend, my brother and I need you." Porthos whispered.

"I cannot promise you this …" Athos mumbled, his voice trembling slightly.

"Why can't you accept that you are loved Athos? That we need you? That we will never give you up and help you?"

"I …" Athos started, but then he didn't know what to say, because Porthos bent carefully over him and gently lifted him up while pulling him into a strong embrace. Athos accepted his brother's bear hug, suddenly feeling how much he still needed his brother's comfort.

"Thank you for saving my life." Athos whispered, unable to hold his own tears at bay any longer.

"You would have done the very same for me." Porthos spoke softly into his friend's ear. He felt him tremble a little and decided it was time to help him back onto his soft pillow again.

"True." Athos mumbled, exhausted.

"Are we good?" Porthos asked while he gently wiped Athos' tears from his face.

"Of course we are."

A soft smile briefly appeared on Athos' lips, but the small gesture meant the world to Porthos.

"So you won't use those words ever again?" Porthos asked Athos with a raised eyebrow.

"As long as my mind is not clouded by this stupid pain potion. It makes my head fuzzy and I cannot think clearly enough. I freaked out yesterday." Athos stated matter of factly.

"I would have done the same." Porthos mumbled.

"Even though Tréville and the doctor have told me that the chances are good that I'll be able to use my arm as before the attack … there's still a chance that it won't heal properly. I know that …" Athos admitted. "And it scares me." Saying these last words, his voice nearly broke.

"I will help you to pull through this. I promise you Athos, I won't let you down."

"I know … like you didn't leave me the past two days, even when I shouted at you to leave me alone. You saved me from myself."

"You can be a stubborn mule sometimes." Porthos snorted.

"Forgive me my indulgence." Athos answered him in a mocking tone.

"I will do my best." Porthos laughed and wiped his own tears away. "You look exhausted Athos, you should sleep."

"I can't. Not now."

"Alright, if you are still up to talking with me, we will have that talk." Porthos prepared himself.

"Very well, go ahead." Athos told him.

"Whatever it is that is between Aramis and you. Fix it! Sooner rather than later. It only endangers the both of you, and us, this way."

"I've already talked to Aramis and we will find a way. Promise. Do you need to know why? …" Athos started carefully.

"Nah, it's good enough to have your word on it. Besides if I have to guess, it is about a woman. With Aramis, it's always about a woman …" Porthos snorted.

Relieved, Athos nodded, thus signaling to Porthos that he assumed right, without actually lying to him. If he had to be honest with himself, if Porthos had asked him outright what was really going on between the both of them, he would have told him the whole truth without a second thought. In the past two days, Porthos had saved his life more than once, and he knew that he would keep this secret, but he knew that one day, it would be Aramis' duty to tell Porthos and not his. That much he owed his other brother.

"Is that all?" Athos asked.

"No, I have only started." Porthos told him.

"What's next?" Athos looked curiously at him. "Do you want to rebuke me because of my words to the Cardinal?"

"That probably too." Porthos sighed. "Athos, I cannot change you and I won't try, but I strongly advise you to tell d'Artagnan about your arm. I mean the whole story …"

"You mean that Juan used d'Artagnan's main-gauche?" Athos mumbled. "I want to spare him that. It was not his fault. If he hadn't had that weapon, he would have used another." Athos yawned tiredly.

"Imagine if d'Artagnan found out on his own, one day. He would be disappointed. Tell him, as soon as you are better, sit down with him and talk to him. He has to know."

"You are right, Porthos. I would want to know if I were him and, to be honest, I doubt that I would have had that much power if I hadn't feared for d'Artagnan's life. It might sound ironic, but the fact that Juan used d'Artagnan's dagger made me fight for my life." Athos mumbled.

"Good! Tell him exactly that and punish him afterwards with one week's stable duty. He would expect nothing less."

"Two weeks?" Athos responded.

"Nah … two weeks will be for climbing on the tree and scaring an owl to death."

Porthos chuckled. He gently pressed his brother's shoulder, seeing the obvious signs that Athos was fighting to keep his eyes open. He stood up and reached for a cup with pain potion.

"Do I really have to?" Athos mumbled.

"You do know that you are the most stubborn patient I have ever had to deal with?"

"I thought Aramis was much worse than me. Athos tried to defend himself, accepting the bitter liquid. After finishing the whole cup he closed his eyes, exhausted.

"Porthos?" he mumbled sluggishly.

"Hmm …?" the big man asked.

"Thank ... you … for … everything ..." Athos slurred as his tired mind drifted off again.

Porthos sighed. Relieved, he removed the cup from Athos' left hand, put it away and tucked his friend into his blanket.

"No, Athos, thank you for asking." The streetfighter whispered quietly into his friend's ear, while a single tear ran over his left cheek.

 ** _To be continued …_**


	44. Chapter 44

**_Hey there,_**

 ** _thank you so much for reading and leaving a comment._**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"Oh what a good chapter. So pleased they are talking about things. Maybe not everything but it's a start. You portray their love and concern for each other beautifully."_**

 ** _I am so happy you liked it. Yes I had a longer Porthos' part in it ;-) They have to start talking at one point and I figured that Porthos needed to sort some of the things out. Thank you for your lovely review. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"Was anything valuable said coming from that woman's mouth? Or perhaps I missed it._**  
 ** _Though I will say the flashback from Athos was illuminating. I wouldn't put it past the cardinal that he was the one behind the set up for Athos to be killed. But if that were the case why didn't he have all the inseparables and Treville set up. They all know his secret. Then again Queen Anne would be suspicious on their deaths and know very well that Richelieu was behind it and then tell His Majesty. I'm more confused than ever. LOL!"_**

 ** _Thank you for your review, Debbie. Dona Ynes-Mancía will be in this chapter and yes she will reveal something more to Tréville ;-) Well … well is the Cardinal involved?_** ** _Sorry for confusing you. (lol!) I hope to come to an end with all this confusion in the chapters 46 and 47. During this time keep on guessing. I love to read your speculations. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _I am back with ch 44._** ** _I promised to give it to you as soon as my lovely beta had time to proofread it and she hurried up. Thank you so much Tricia xx Kira._** ** _The investigation continues and Tréville can name his men some of the things he has found out so far …_**

 ** _Enjoy_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 44**

"Talk or I will order your arrest. This is your last chance!" Tréville's voice shouted at the young noblewoman in front of him.

"I want a written guarantee that you will let me leave unharmed." The young woman answered defiantly.

"My word has to be sufficient." Tréville answered her shortly.

It finally dawned on Dona Ynes-Mancía that she had no other choice left. With a low voice she asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Who ordered the assault on my officer?" he asked in a low, but dangerous voice.

"My uncle was asked to give the order." she admitted.

"By whom?" Tréville breathed in sharply.

"I don't know."

Dona Ynes-Mancía answered defiantly and Tréville wasn't sure if she was telling him the truth. Even if the woman was shaken by her uncle and Juan's deaths she still knew how to trick and con her way out of trouble. In his eyes, this woman was nothing but a spoiled child, but she belonged to the Spanish aristocracy and he knew that Queen Anne would vouch for her, sending her relative back to Spain. He had only a few minutes left with her.

"Why would your uncle accept such a request?" he asked while focusing with his intelligent eyes on the noblewoman's face, trying to read her facial expression.

"He asked for something in exchange? Something he couldn't do on his own. It would have been too obvious." Dona Ynes-Mancía said angrily.

"What?" Tréville thundered, wondering what the woman was talking about.

"I asked him to arrange that my fiancé would have a deadly accident shortly after our marriage."

She quietly admitted, her head bent, her eyes directed on the floor. Tréville jumped out from his chair, staring at her in utter disgust.

"Why?" he mumbled shaking his head in disbelief.

"Because if Fernando had ordered our men, or employed bandits to do it …" she paused. "It would have always fallen back on us. Someone would have figured it out at some point. This way no title, no fortune … It was an easy exchange …"

"But why? … If you didn't want to marry your fiancé you could have always withdrawn and broken the agreement.

"And give up all the benefits this marriage would bring with it?" she laughed out loud.

"My uncle said it would be the perfect plan and I would have been able to live a happy life with Juan." She laughed bitterly, blinking tears away. "See how wrong he was … Now I have nothing … Juan is dead."

She didn't wipe away the tears, which were now running down over her face, mourning the man she had obviously loved.

"That's why he risked his life when the first assault failed?" Tréville's mouth hung open in disbelief. He turned away from her and walked to and fro in the small room. When she started to speak again, he turned around to her.

"After you came to the château and we figured out that your Lieutenant was still alive, Juan told me that he would finish the job. My uncle asked him to stay at the château, he tried to forbid him from doing it, but your appearance convinced Juan that you wouldn't stop investigating until you found out who was behind the attack. It was our last chance … you know the rest of the story."

"Your only chance …" Tréville growled dangerously, "Juan was a fool, thinking that he could attack one of my officers at our garrison and escape undetected." Tréville shook his head.

"He loved me. He would have done anything for me. The fool was my uncle, not Juan. We should have stuck to our first plan." She looked angrily at Tréville and laughed again bitterly.

"Your first plan?" Tréville wondered aloud.

"Yes. Poison. It's quiet. There is no evidence left. It could have been easily dismissed as a deadly disease, but Fernando disagreed." she added in a firm voice.

Tréville struggled with his own emotions. This woman was pure evil. The way she reported that facts without any emotions, told him that she had no scruples about killing the man she was betrothed to.

"Do you know why my officer was to be killed?" he asked dangerously.

"No, I am sorry, I think it was something personal. My uncle didn't tell me anything about the details. Will you let me go now?" she demanded.

"My men will take you to the palace. Queen Anne will decide what will happen to you."

"You should send me on my way to Italy. My fiancé is still waiting for me ..."

She blinked, a sudden warm smile on her face, but Tréville ignored her attempt at flirting. He was disgusted by this woman. She was even worse than Milady.

"Oh, believe me, I will send a written report to your fiancé informing him about this whole plot. I doubt that he will be willing to marry you anymore."

"You cannot do that!" she screamed in a high pitched voice, trying to jump up, but was restrained by the firm grip of the Musketeer, who had restrained her earlier.

"I can and I will. I am done here."

Tréville told her in a cold voice. He had no sympathy for her when she started to sob aloud trying to beg for mercy. Tréville stepped away from her. He gave his men a sign and ordered them to bring her to the palace, while he himself decided to return to the garrison.

With what he had heard from Milady he now had a better picture. Don Fernando's plan had been an evil one. In exchange for killing one of his Musketeers they had been promised that this Italian nobleman would have be murdered. They nearly had achieved their goal, but they hadn't counted on the fact that _Musketeers don't die easily_. A grim smile appeared fleetingly on his face.

Outside, in the warm air, Tréville tried to massage with his hand on his temple his headache away. Richelieu had ordered one of his Musketeers the death of one of his Musketeers. He had failed, this time, but what about the next time?

 _Will he try it again? I need to warn my men? I need to come up with a plan to protect them, but first of all I need to talk a second time to Athos. I hope he is much better by now …_

 _This whole matter is a nightmare …_

 **XXXXX**

Whispered voices, silence, walking, steps on the floor, coming and going. Something cool touching his upper arm, being wrapped around it. A soft touch on his arm. Athos drifted in and out for several minutes. Not really asleep, not really awake. He felt tired, his whole body was aching and his only wish was that the pain would finally go away.

A knock on the door. A newcomer? More voices, more silence. Even with his eyes closed he could feel them gazing at him: filled with concern, filled with anxiousness, filled with hoping that he would soon open his eyes again.

Athos felt a movement next to him. A brush of warm air coming from the door and moving over his face and hair. Someone sat down on the chair on his right side, then a soft touch on his upper right shoulder and the hand of the newcomer rested there a little longer.

On his left side he could hear the melodic voice of Aramis, in the distance. His tired mind didn't register the words at first. The words were repeated several times and the sound of them grew louder and louder until he could decipher them.

"Wake … open … eyes … you … can … come …"

Aramis repeated these words over and over again and then Athos felt the soft touch of his warm hand on his forehead. The medic was checking for any signs of a temperature. Of course, the Medic's hand ended up in his hair and rested there longer than necessary but he supposed Aramis required the contact to ground his own unsettled nerves. Athos decided he was safe and could continue to sleep, but another voice stopped him from drifting off again.

"Come on, Athos. You need to drink more fluid."

His Captain's voice. The swordsman figured that he had to open his eyes now. He couldn't ignore a direct order from his commanding officer. Several more minutes passed until he finally managed, with great effort, to half open his eyes. Still weary he let his head roll to the right. His green eyes looked into his Captain's face which greeted him with a gentle smile.

"That's it. You need to drink." Tréville explained quietly.

Athos could feel Aramis' hand still resting on his head.

"How long?" Athos mumbled.

"Several hours." He could hear Porthos in the background.

"Sorry for waking you. The doctor has ordered us to make you drink."

Aramis gently explained and before Athos could protest he felt a cup pressed on his lips and Aramis' hand gently lifting his head.

"I can drink on my own."

Athos protested, his voice gruff and low. Aramis gave him more space while the swordsman reached with his left hand for the cup of broth and took several sips. The medic didn't stop supporting his head.

Athos turned his head away.

"Some more." Aramis insisted and Athos had no choice but to follow his orders. When he had finished the first cup he thought he was finished, but d'Artagnan was busy with giving Aramis a second cup. The medic demanded that he drink that as well. At least it was water and not a bitter pain potion this time.

"If I continue like this I will need …"

Athos tried to protest, but the rest of his sentence couldn't be heard because his three friends burst into loud laughter, while Tréville smiled respectfully.

"Do you need to do it now?" Aramis asked quietly after their laughter had subsided a little.

"No, I am fine for now." he stated shortly.

"You are anything but fine, _mon ami_ , but you will be soon **."** Aramis gently whispered in his ear.

"We will let you sleep." Tréville ordered, recognising that Athos was still groggy.

"No, please. I guess you have some news. I want to hear all of it, Captain."

Athos said, barely audibly, while trying to find a more comfortable position on the mattress. Before he could ask for help he felt strong arms lifting his upper body and some soft pillows being pushed behind his back: Porthos and Aramis.

"Better?" Aramis asked and Athos quietly nodded.

"How are you Athos?" Tréville asked, trying to figure out if now was the best time to start his report. Athos thought for a while.

"My body is still sore and I'm afraid no improvement regarding my hand." Athos sad eyes wandered to his immobile arm that still rested, heavily bandaged, on his chest.

"Give it time." Aramis said calmly from his other side.

"That's the only thing I can do right now. Sleeping, drinking, waiting. I feel like a little child." Athos stated tiredly.

"Your pain level?" Tréville asked, ignoring the last sentence.

"Less than before." Athos mumbled, honestly.

"Good." Tréville stated. "Are you ready to hear what I have found out so far?" he asked.

"Go ahead. I'll tell you when I cannot follow you anymore. I want to know …" Athos paused.

"We all want to know who has done this to you." d'Artagnan exclaimed. "Captain, what have you found out? What has Dona Ynes-Mancía told you? Why has Juan tried to kill Athos?" d'Artagnan asked.

"One step at a time d'Artagnan." Tréville calmed his youngest Musketeer. His hand was still resting on Athos' shoulder.

On his way back to the Garrison, he had thought about how he should tell his men. He was sure that at one point he would need to talk to Athos alone, but for now he had decided it would be best that he started to give them a short report about what he had found out so far, knowing very well that he had to leave out Milday's name and the extent of her involvement.

Athos needed rest, not further excitement, and when he heard that Milady had been near him when he was attacked the first time, he was certain that it would only upset him.

Tréville cleared his throat and then started his report:

"It all started with the letter I was asked that one of my men should deliver to Dona Ynes-Mancía." Tréville began his report feeling all eyes resting on him.

"At least I managed to deliver this letter." Athos mumbled.

"Yes, you fulfilled the task but, by doing as asked, you stepped into a devilish trap. I had no idea. I am sorry. I should have never sent only one of you. I was careless."

Tréville locked eyes with Athos and the latter smiled briefly to show Tréville that it hadn't been his fault, but the men who had injured him.

"How can an invitation from the Queen lead one of us stepping into a trap?" Aramis asked feeling Athos' uneasiness.

"There was a second letter within the first, I am certain of it. Most probablely to Spain." said d'Artagnan standing up and limping over next to Aramis to be closer to his mentor.

"No, d'Artagnan there wasn't a second letter and yet there was one."

"Now you are confusing me." Porthos looked at his Captain, irritated.

"The second letter was the one I was to deliver back to the palace." Athos answered quietly.

"Yes." Tréville nodded.

"But it never made it to the palace." Athos gulped. "Maybe there was a secret message hidden in the answer to the invitation to the Queen." he mused, while his head beginning to ache.

"The letter made it back to the palace." Tréville answered.

"How?" Athos asked confused and blinked several times.

Now would come the most tricky part. Tréville knew that he had to reveal some of the things he found out through Milady, without saying her name. He decided to stay as close to the truth as possible.

"The letter itself was not very important. The message was that Dona Ynes-Mancía wouldn't be able to attend the Queen's party. Nothing important that couldn't be delivered by one of her valets." Tréville continued. "But Don Fernando had ordered men -let's say mercenaries or poachers- to kill the Musketeer who would return from _Château de Fontainebleau_ with the message for the Queen."

"Why?" Athos asked confused. "And how did the letter find its way back to the palace? Are you sure it was the letter I was to bring back? Maybe another letter was delivered to the Queen instead." Athos interjected confused.

"There was your blood on the letter, Athos. It was the letter you were to deliver. I am certain ..." Tréville assured him.

"There was my blood …" Athos paled. "Please, don't tell me I frightened the Queen." he mumbled, shocked.

"She is stronger than you think, my friend." Aramis calmed him. "I doubt that a letter with some blood spots will scare her."

Aramis added, looking angrily at Tréville silently communicating with a look that Athos was still very weak and shouldn't be bothered with these minor details. Tréville ignored Aramis' glare.

"She was concerned about your well-being Athos and sends you best wishes for a speedy recovery."

Then he repeated what Gauthier had told him about how the letter arrived at the palace, but he didn't mention the fact that a woman brought the letter, but said it was an unknown person wearing dark clothes. Neither Porthos or d'Artagnan dared to ask this time if the person could have been a woman. Athos had already reacted to the blood on the paper. It was best to give him as little information as possible at the moment. Aramis was right.

"So the King wasn't aware that the Cardinal had sent one of us to deliver this letter, neither was the Queen, and we still don't know who this person was who brought back the letter to the palace?" Porthos stated angrily.

"Whoever killed the third raider by cutting his throat must be the person who delivered the letter?"Athos mumbled. "But why?"

"Maybe we will never find out who killed this third raider who tried to murder you, Athos?" Tréville said cautiously, observing the face of his ailing officer.

 _I am so sorry that I have to lie to you … to all of my men … I hope they don't figure it out. It has to be this way. Sometimes I have to lie to protect them …_

Tréville thought and then gave the explanation he had come up with while returning to the garrison.

"If I have to guess, someone at the château witnessed or overheard the plan that there were raiders who were paid to kill a Musketeer. Maybe a loyal servant to the King, who tried to stop them, but he was one against three. He tried to intervene but couldn't without risking his own life."

Tréville paused again. Noticing that his Musketeers were nodding, he continued.

"When Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan found you, Athos, the person knew he wouldn't be needed anymore but witnessed that one raider had escaped with the letter. He followed this injured man, punished him for his treacherous deeds and delivered the letter to the palace. But that's only a wild guess." Tréville sighed and ran his hand over his face.

"It's not important then." Athos mumbled, too tired to follow every single word of their conversation although he had a slight feeling that Tréville was leaving something out. He knew his Captain too well. "But why did Don Fernando order me to be killed?" Athos asked the question that really mattered to him now. "I had never met him before that day."

Athos struggled and moved on the sheets of the mattress in order to sit up more. Aramis helped him, while supporting his back.

"It's complicated."

Tréville looked at a very tired Athos who was fighting to keep his eyes open, then at his other men wondering for a moment if he should continue or wait. Feeling all eyes upon him he moved on:

"Don Fernando offered to kill a Musketeer in order that someone else not related to him would kill the fiancé of Dona Ynes-Mancía after their marriage in Italy."

"What?" Porthos exclaimed in disbelief.

"Why?" Aramis and d'Artagnan exclaimed in unison.

Only Athos stayed calm. He was still thinking about the person who had killed his third attacker and delivered the letter to the palace. Something did not fit, but he wasn't able to figure it out at the moment. If he had been more awake, in less pain, he would have noticed how Tréville kept trying to move away from this topic, but his mind was still too clouded.

"According to Dona Ynes-Mancía she was in love with Juan and not this Italian nobleman."

"That figures." Porthos nodded. "But she could have easily asked to annul the engagement. No harm to anyone. Not to Athos, not to this Italian nobleman." Porthos added.

"Let me guess - this woman didn't want to give up the possession of a title, fame, wealth."

Aramis stated firmly speaking with his hands as well and gesticulating wildly.

"Exactly. Her uncle agreed to help her but under the condition that someone else should fulfill this task. So no one would be able to accuse him or his niece or even trace the dreadful deed back to them."

"The perfect crime. At least they thought that …" Athos snorted.

"A devilishly evil one!" d'Artagnan shouted angrily. "So that's why Juan made a second attempt on Athos' life when their first plan failed. He wanted to make sure that the other partner in crime would kill this Italian. This is utterly disgusting."

D'Artagnan shook his head angrily and reached for Athos' left hand, pressing it gently.

"Not so loud."

Athos gasped and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt the headache reappearing while he had more and more troubles in following their discussion.

"Athos?" Tréville asked gently. "We should let you rest. I can report the rest of what I found out to you later." he stated firmly.

"No, please continue … need to know ..." Athos mumbled sleepy and dazed.

Tréville shared a short look with Aramis who gave him a nod to continue.

 _He will fall asleep anytime. It will bother him now more if you stop._ Aramis told Tréville with his eyes.

"I will keep the rest short." Tréville smiled at Athos, gently pressing his shoulder. "My inquiries have led me to a witness who overheard a talk between Don Fernando and the Cardinal in a shabby tavern earlier that day. The Cardinal told Don Fernando that their deal was off and several hours later Don Fernando was found dead."

"So you assume that the Cardinal was willing to kill or let the Italian nobleman be killed as long as they agreed to kill Athos for him?" Aramis asked quietly.

"If the Cardinal is behind all of this -and I have no doubt about it- how could he know that Athos would deliver the letter?" Porthos asked curiously. "I mean we had no idea which of us would go, neither had you, Captain."

"He must have given Don Fernando ... an exact description of me. Maybe the signal was ... whoever took the letter back ... would be the right target." Athos mused and yawned.

"Why on earth would the Cardinal want to see you dead, Athos? What did you say to him?" Tréville asked him.

"I told you … I threatened ... him ..." The swordsman whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open and blinking heavily.

"When? How? Why? I need to know!"

Tréville asked, but Athos eyes had drooped and he had fallen asleep again, too tired to keep himself upright any longer, Porthos and Aramis gently removed the pillows behind his back and settled their friend in a more comfortable position.

"He told us earlier." Aramis explained while watching the rise and fall of his sleeping friend's chest. Then he quietly informed his Captain about what had happened between Athos and the Cardinal at _le Jardin du Luxembourg_.

"So you mean the Cardinal wanted to have his revenge on Athos?" Tréville mused aloud.

"What on earth was he thinking endangering his life like that?" Tréville said louder than he intended.

"He was doing his duty, protecting our fellow Musketeers and you. You would have expected him to do nothing less, Captain." Aramis answered in defence of his sleeping brother.

"Well, at least Athos thinks that this could be the reason why the Cardinal might have ordered him killed." Porthos added. "We discussed other theories earlier and he came up with the idea that the Cardinal could be involved because the order to deliver the letter did not come from the Queen, but from him, and he asked only one Musketeer to go."

"And this way, you create your perfect crime. The Cardinal thought in asking someone who has no direct contact with Athos, no one would figure out that he is behind the assault."

Tréville shook his head, unbelieving and snorted aloud.

"Well, I am convinced he made sure that he had the perfect alibi, while the attack on Athos' life occurred." d'Artagnan stood up and stretched his arms.

"You aren't convinced that Athos was the target, are you?" Tréville looked questioningly at his men. First d'Artagnan, then Porthos at last Aramis.

The medic stood slowly up and stepped back to the window needing more fresh air. The dizziness was still bothering him, but it wasn't as bad as before.

"It's reasonable to think that." d'Artagnan said hurriedly. "If he orders one of his spies or one of his Red Guards to kill Athos, we would find that out quickly. It would mean war between the Red Guards and the Musketeers if a Red Guard killed the Lieutenant of the Musketeers and the Cardinal wouldn't want such a fight. It wouldn't be in the interest of the King and France when soldiers of the two regiments, who have sworn to protect their King start to fight against each other."

D'Artagnan limped over to Aramis and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Athos is sleeping for now. You should rest as well, Aramis." d'Artagnan said to the medic.

"Something is not right." Aramis turned around. "Captain, there must be more to it."

"Probably there is, Aramis, but for now this explanation is sufficient for me. I am certain that the Cardinal ordered the attack on one of my Musketeers. I have an eye witness to that and one who overheard the plotters. I have the statement of Dona Ynes-Mancía, but alas she couldn't tell me the name of the partner in crime with whom her uncle met to plan this dreadful deed." Tréville sighed.

He knew more than he had told his men. He still needed a word with Athos in private to consider his next steps. Exhausted, he drew his hand over his face.

"The fact that Don Fernando was murdered last night … it all appears to me as if someone tried to cover his tracks. It is most reasonable that the Cardinal was involved in this whole plot and ordered the attack." Aramis angrily shook his head, knowing that he wouldn't be able to do anything against the churchman.

"What will happen to Dona Ynes-Mancía now?"

D'Artagnan asked still seeing the cold blue eyes in his mind's eye and hearing her mocking laugh when he met her at the château.

"She demanded to be taken to Italy. I told her that I will warn her fiancé. The Queen has to decide, but most probably she will be sent back to Spain." Tréville explained.

"If the Cardinal is behind this attack on Athos' life he will still be in danger from now on. He isn't a man who just stops when a first plan fails." Porthos suddenly exclaimed.

"Maybe … maybe not … Richelieu is not stupid. For now, he knows that Athos is still alive. He knows that I am suspicious and investigating. He has covered all possible traces that would lead back to him. He won't try it again for now. He will withdraw for the moment to consider his next steps. He won't send one of his spies or Red Guards to try it again … he accepted the offer of a stranger in order to be unconnected to this crime." Tréville stated firmly.

"But one day he will …" D'Artagnan interrupted them. "I don't see the Cardinal as someone who accepts not getting his revenge if he fails the first time. We need more evidence to bring him finally to bring him to justice. First the Queen, now Athos, who will be next?"

D'Artagnan had raised his voice again, but luckily Athos was in a deep sleep.

"D'Artagnan be careful!" Tréville addressed the young Gascon. "Right now we have no evidence that Richelieu has done it and we cannot accuse the most powerful man besides the King of France without proof. So don't do anything impulsive. Athos needs you -not in prison or dead in a dark alley- but alive." Tréville warned him, knowing very well how his youngest Musketeer could become when his mentor was in danger.

"What is about your witness? Is he willing to make a statement?" Aramis asked.

"My witness won't be able to do that. To be honest, we all know how these statements always end. One single statement against the Cardinal from one person? The King would never believe that."

Tréville shook his head tiredly, without telling his men who his witness was. He was kind of glad that they thought it was a man. The less people knew that Milady was still in Paris, the less Athos would hear about it and find out she was - and he had sworn to himself to spare Athos at least from this bad news. His Lieutenant had other problems and was suffering enough already. He made this lonely decision in the best interests of his officer.

He would stick to this plan as long as Athos didn't start interrogating him about it.

Tréville had thought for a moment to ask Milady to make an official statement, but he knew that she would never do it. She wasn't a reliable witness. She had worked for the Cardinal as a spy. She was a convicted criminal wearing the bearing of a failed hanging around her neck. Her life would be at risk, if she agreed to make such a statement and he knew that the Cardinal would find ways and means to make her disappear before she could come and address the court.

D'Artagnan let his head drop and looked, disappointed at the wooden floor of the infirmary. Aramis collapsed, exhausted on a mattress of a nearby bed and Porthos sat back on a chair next to Athos' bed watching over his sleeping brother. He turned his head towards Tréville.

"So for now we concentrate on protecting Athos from further harm and help him to recover." Porthos summarised what he thought Tréville had wanted to tell them.

"For now, that's a start." Tréville nodded. "Take good care of him and help him. Be assured I will come up with a plan to stop the Cardinal."

He stated firmly. Then he reached for his hat which he had put on a table next to Athos' bed and walked over to the door.

"Be assured that we will help him and you." Aramis answered for all of them, a grim expression on his face.

Outside of the infirmary Tréville shook his head. He had the uneasy feeling that something important had slipped by him, but he wasn't sure what it was. Athos had been calm, perhaps too calm. Did he know? Had he guessed that his informant was Milady ...

 _Don't overthink your own assumptions. Athos is still very tired. Lemay has told me that it will take time for Athos' still weakened body to recover. Plenty of rest, of sleep. He is simply too spent to react and think facts through properly_ _right now. I should be grateful for that otherwise he would have asked more about the person who my witness is._

He needed a moment alone with Athos to put together the last pieces of the puzzle but, for now, it was enough to know that the Cardinal had led Athos into this almost fatal trap. At least now he knew and could start thinking about what precautions to take to protect his Musketeers.

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	45. Chapter 45

_**Hey,**_

 _ **I am back with the next chapter. Thank you for reading and leaving a review. Not sure if you will like my next chapter … but I needed it for the development of the plot.**_

 _ **You will see later …**_

* * *

 _ **A special thank you goes out to my lovely beta Tricia. Thank you so much. I know you have many things to do, nevertheless I am very grateful that you take your time and proofread my chapters. Thanks to you my text sounds English ;-)**_

 _ **I want to say thank you to Mountain Cat as well for giving me some advice for this chapter.**_

* * *

 _ **To Barbara:**_

 _ **"Excellent chapter. The loose ends are slowly coming together to be tied up. Looking forward to next chapter."**_

 _ **Thank you Barbara. Yes the are finally coming together, but they still need to put all pieces into place. xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **To Debbie:**_

 _ **"Well finally the plot is revealed but to discover who was behind it, mmmmm. I guess we'll just have to see, eh? Even the Musketeers are still puzzled over the who, why and therefores... I can't wait for more."**_

 _ **Thank you for your review, Debbie. Part of the plot is revealed … hmmm … More about the plot in ch 46 and 47. xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **So here is chapter 45. The story will have in a total 50 chapters plus an Epilogue.**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Chapter 45**

Athos spurred Roger to move faster. He waited for his proud black stallion to begin galloping. He tried to bend over Roger's neck and press his face against his mane. He hoped to flee, but to flee from what?

However, try as he might, he couldn't bend down. Somehow his arms and legs were restrained and so he had to stay in an upright position. A long thin item travelled towards him through the warm air. Before he could evade it, it entered the middle of his chest, where it pierced deep into his flesh.

He felt a sharp pain pulsing through his ribcage and when he looked down he saw a long arrow protruding out of the middle of his chest next to his heart. His heart started to race, his hands clutched frantically around the long shaft and he tried to pull it out with his left hand, as he couldn't move his right. His fingers slid away from the arrow each time he tried to pull on it. His hand fell next from his torso and dangled down. But not only his hand was falling, he felt his body following.

Suddenly shaking uncontrollably, he couldn't remain on his horse. His left hand reached into nothing and he fell backwards and landed with a loud thud on the grassy ground.

A strange image appeared in his mind's eye: he looked down on himself and saw himself lying in the green grass. His chest was bleeding heavily, the arrow which had pierced his chest pointed upwards into the blue sky and his left hand clutched again and again at his chest trying to pull it out.

His vision blurred. He could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears; beating much too fast and approaching horse hooves coming nearer and nearer. Roger was gone, instead a white mare was suddenly standing next to him. On the back of the horse a person was sitting, covered in a dark green cape, holding a bow in one hand. With the other hand the person removed the hood of the cape. Long dark curly hair fell over the face of the stranger, who he recognised as his wife.

Milady was looking down on him. A grotesque smile upon her face. Her pale green eyes laughed at his miserable form.

 _"_ _Why?"_ Athos mumbled, feeling his heart pulsing and hurting his ribcage more and more.

 _"_ _You broke my heart, that's why. Now I've broken yours."_ He heard the icy tone of Milady's voice filled with hatred and the thirst for revenge.

Athos tried to crawl away from her, to flee, but he was too weak and the pain in his chest would not abate. Desperately, he tried to pull the arrow out of his chest, to finish the job, but a sudden movement and a soft touch on his hand stopped him.

He felt the presence of three men keeling next to him, comforting him with words, touching him, holding him down, protecting him. When he looked up Milady was gone, instead six pairs of dark brown eyes smiled at him. He felt a gentle touch on his left hand and he heard a soft voice telling him:

"You're safe, Athos."

"D'Artagnan?" Athos mumbled unable to hear everything the young man was saying.

Then everything went black and Athos fell into a deeper sleep. The horrible nightmare was extinguished from his mind.

 **XXXXX**

D'Artagnan put the book which he was reading away when he heard the first signs of Athos thrashing around in his sleep. The ailing man tried to move onto his side, but he couldn't. His good leg and arm were moving restlessly under the sheets they had wrapped round and tucked him in earlier. Using his remaining strength, he managed to disentangle his left arm from under them.

D'Artagnan looked irritated when Athos started to clutch his palm at his chest repeatedly. It seemed that he was trying to remove something which wasn't there. Athos mumbled incoherently words which the young man couldn't understand. From time to time he paused, moaned out loud and suddenly screamed with a cry while his whole body started trembling. His body stiffened for a second, then he fell, like a stone, back on the mattress.

D'Artagnan unable to just stand by and watch what was happening to his ailing friend reached for his left hand and pressed it gently, while laying his other hand on his right leg to stop it moving around.

"Stop it, Athos, you're only hurting yourself."

He softly whispered in his brother's ear, but got no reaction. Instead he started to talk in his sleep, but d'Artagnan couldn't really understand what he was saying. He thought he could decipher one word- "Anne", but nothing else.

It was this that told d'Artagnan that Athos was having a nasty nightmare, probably about his wife. D'Artagnan did what Porthos or Aramis had done so many times before when Athos had been gripped by a nightmare. He carefully put his hand on Athos' head and stroked over his thick hair, while not letting go of Athos' left. He felt his friend's cold fingers pressing his. When Athos' breathing started to become irregular and he opened his mouth wide, d'Artagnan rolled him on his side, holding him in this position until his breathing eased.

"Shhh … you are safe … go back to sleep." D'Artagnan repeated several times.

It took the swordsman a while to comprehend his words, but then he moved on the sheets and the young man rolled him gently on his back. Athos' eyes flickered open only for a second. Seeing the face of the young man in front of him and hearing the words, "You are safe," calmed him. His eyes closed again and he drifted off into a deeper sleep, his hand loosened its grip and slipped out of d'Artagnan's, who placed it softly back on the mattress.

D'Artagnan led out a sigh of relief. It wasn't the first time that he had witnessed Athos having a nightmare, but most of the time Aramis or Porthos had been with him.

The Gascon's thoughts drifted off. He remembered stories Porthos and Aramis had told him about Athos' horrible nightmares. They had been more frequent before he had joined them, but from time to time they were still afflicting the swordsman.

D'Artagnan knew that Athos was a very private man, who preferred to keep his emotions at bay and hated to talk about himself and his past. When the young Gascon had joined them months ago, Athos had asked Aramis and Porthos to keep d'Artagnan away from him, in the case he would experience them again and they had respected his wish, knowing that Athos would be embarrassed to let himself be seen at his most vulnerable.

D'Artagnan remembered the first time he had witnessed one of Athos' nightmares. They had been on a mission and spent a night at an inn. Athos had developed a nasty cold, drunk too much and in the end had difficulty falling asleep. They all had shared one room together and when Athos started to thrash around him while sleeping and screaming loud, Aramis had sent him away, with a firm voice to go and check on their horses. The young man had been irritated at first: why shouldn't he stay and help? Later Porthos had sat down with him and explained it to him quietly. A little hurt, the young Gascon had accepted Athos' wish, telling his brothers that whenever they needed him they could count on him.

However, since the young man had entered Athos' life his nightmares seemed to abate. Aramis had mused one day while talking with Porthos and unaware that d'Artagnan could overhear their conversation, that he thought that Athos' teaching the young man had helped him to finally move on and distract him from his past. Nevertheless, the reappearance of Milady had haunted the usually strong and calm man and the nightmares had come back more often than his brothers would wish for him. D'Artagnan wondered if now, since Athos' wife had left Paris, the swordsman would finally find peace and would be able to close this hurtful chapter of his past. He hoped and prayed for it.

 _"_ _Don't wake him up!"_ Aramis had advised him earlier. _"_ _His body needs all the rest and sleep he can get." h_ e had explained and d'Artagnan was willing to do everything in his power to ensure that Athos would finally get better.

They had decided to take shifts in watching over Athos. He would start while Porthos and Aramis were having an early dinner and then settle down to catch up on some needed sleep. Tréville had volunteered to take over in the early evening until midnight and then Porthos and Aramis would take their turns during the night, so that d'Artagnan could catch up with some much needed sleep as well.

The young man wished he could chase these horrible nightmares away from his friend. He wondered:

 _Is he dreaming of Milady? How she murdered his brother? Or how he had to shoot me and feared that he had killed me? Or is this a new nightmare, dealing with what has happened to him while riding back from Château de Fontainebleau? Or is he reliving how Juan attacked him and Aramis?_

D'Artagnan didn't know. The fact that Athos had said the name Anne didn't bode well. It had been only a few days ago that Athos had been confronted with his murderous wife. Ready to kill her, he had asked her instead to leave Paris and never to come back. D'Artagnan shuddered at the thought of how this woman had tricked him and nearly murdered Constance. The young Gascon shook his head to chase the bad memories away.

D'Artagnan yawned tiredly. It was warm in the infirmary. They had closed all windows and the fire in the stove, which Porthos had renewed half an hour ago, made it humid. They had wanted to make sure that Athos would be warm enough but now the heat made him sleepy and sweaty.

He still could feel his ankle hurting from time to time, but he had been able to finally remove the bandages from around his hands, which made it easier for him to take care of Athos. Satisfied that his brother had calmed, d'Artagnan limped over to his chair and reached for the book he had borrowed from Athos' room. It was about warfare and he had considered reading aloud to Athos in order to distract him, in case he couldn't fall asleep. He started to turn the pages not really reading, but thinking about what the Captain had had told them earlier.

 **XXXXX**

 _"_ _You failed … once again … you failed …"_ The loud laughter was ringing in Athos' ears and he tried to evade the sound.

She was back, parading in front of him in a dark green dress and holding a sheet of paper in the air. Athos squinted his aching eyes shut to have a better look: it was a letter. The usually oatmeal coloured paper had red spots on it. Blood … his blood. Athos tried to turn his head away, but Milady came nearer and nearer until she grabbed his face with her gloved hand and pulled on his hair.

 _"_ _Leave me …"_

Athos gasped, while trying to retreat but something was holding him down. He looked down at himself. He was still lying on the grass where the dampness was now soaking into his shirt. The arrow was still sticking into his chest and the more he moved the more his right arm hurt him.

He looked at his bloody chest in horror. A firm slap on his cheek made him look up again. He knew he couldn't evade her, couldn't flee her, but why was she holding a letter in her hand?

 _"_ _What …?"_

 _H_ e slurred, while trying to reach the paper, which Milady was holding in front of his nose, with his good hand. She drew it back, just as his fingers reached it and tried to pull on it. His hand grasped empty air and landed back on his stomach. He groaned out loud.

 _"_ _What …?"_ he repeated confused.

 _"_ _You haven't fulfilled your task. The important letter is gone. You failed your Queen. What kind of unworthy Musketeer are you?"_ Milady's voice mocked him.

 _"_ _I …"_

Athos started to protest. He coughed but was still unable to move. _"_ _Give …"_ He gasped and tried to reach the letter with his right hand, but it wouldn't to move. It felt heavy and started to ache fiercely.

 _"_ _Do you really think I will give you this letter?"_ Milady laughed out loud.

 _"_ _What … say …?"_

Athos moved his lips, but his words he tried to form were more and more slurred and incomprehensible.

Milady walked around him, circling him like an eagle watching its prey from high above before attacking it. Then she started to tear the missive in small pieces, raining them onto his face.

 _"_ _Noooo …"_

Athos screamed, suddenly feeling hot and cold at the same time. He tried to catch the small pieces with his left hand reaching into the air. He looked for them frantically but he couldn't see them anymore. They were gone. The letter was lost.

Using his remaining strength he struggled onto his feet -the arrow still impaled deep in his chest- he tried to walk over to Milady, who had mounted the white mare. Her bright eyes looked in the distance, away from him. He walked one step, two steps, then he stumbled over a hole on the ground. His left foot was stuck and he tumbled in a heap on the hard ground. Gasping for air and screaming in pain, his vision blurred.

 _"_ _Why …? Why … back?"_ He whispered, but he didn't receive an answer.

The scene in his head changed suddenly. Instead of the green grass and mellow rolling hills around him, he was lying in his manor which was ablaze. Tongues of fire, gleaming red, orange and yellow, were illuminating not only his house, but his face which reflected his own agony. He couldn't walk, he couldn't breathe. He felt warmer and warmer the nearer the flames were coming. He inhaled the thick black smoke, which made him double over, struggling for each breath and coughing harshly.

Laughing aloud Milady left him. He watched her, his eyes nearly closed, but he could see that she was holding the letter anew in her hands, waving goodbye with it and then disappeared in the flames just as if she was the devil herself.

 _"_ _Come back …"_ He wanted to shout, but a coughing fit stopped him.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear footsteps running, a dark shadow was approaching him, hauling him to his feet, dragging him out of the room and his burning house. Outside he felt cool water on his face, and he finally came back to his senses.

 _"_ _Breathe with me! In … out … in … out,"_ d'Artagnan whispered in his ear.

 _"_ _D'Artag … nnn …"_ Athos slurred, still struggling for air and following d'Artagnan's instructions.

 _"_ _I have you, Athos, you are safe. Come on, breathe …"_ Athos heard from far far away.

 _"_ _So hot …"_ Athos slurred.

Something cold was pressed on his forehead, but his clouded mind couldn't figure out what it was.

 _"_ _Come on, stay awake, open your eyes breathe!"_ D'Artagnan shouted.

But Athos stayed unresponsive and slurred incomprehensible words:

 _"_ _So … hot … burning … hot … let ..."_

 **XXXXX**

D'Artagnan was startled when Athos tossed and moved with both of his feet under the sheets and blankets. It looked as if he tried to walk, but the sudden movement of his left leg made his thigh protest and he paused again, moaning aloud.

The Gascon jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain which went through his own injured ankle and tried to calm his friend's next bout of agitation as best as he could. Athos started to flail his left arm round, while his right one was still lying immobile on his chest. The scarf protected it. Athos began to slur words, but d'Artagnan couldn't understand what he was saying.

 _Is he talking about the letter?_

A second time Athos breathing changed and the young man helped him to roll onto his side, whispering words of comfort in his ear and praying that the nightmare would disappear, but Athos didn't react. Whatever was going on in his clouded mind, it hurt him and left him breathless. Struggling for air and screaming in pain.

D'Artagnan wished he could do something for his friend, to take the agony away from him. His brother started to tremble slightly and then his head moved into an odd position, looking up, just as if someone was pulling on his hair. The tension in his neck must hurt him. D'Artagnan reached for Athos' cheeks and started to slap on them gently, hoping to free him from his nightmare by doing so. But the unconscious man only recoiled.

His eyes suddenly flew wide open. D'Artagnan already hoped that his mentor had woken up, although his gaze was unfocussed and his expression changed into a mask which resembled an expression of horror. He was dreaming with eyes wide open.

"Athos, calm!"

D'Artagnan cried, hoping that his voice would somehow reach him, but again nothing. Then the ailing man curled more upon himself, he said more strange words, d'Artagnan had never heard before, while struggling for each breath.

The young Gascon didn't give up. He continued to give him instructions to breathe with him. He bent over his friend. In the dim light of the infirmary which was lit only by candle light and the dying flames of the stove he saw a layer of sweat on Athos' forehead.

 _"_ _Fever!"_

D'Artagnan gasped. Unsure what to do next, he reached for a wet cloth to cool his friend's skin. It was then that Athos' body started to tremble heavily. Fearing the worst, d'Artagnan shouted for help, while he gently bent over his friend's body, holding him down until the small fit was over.

Fabien rushed in, looked at d'Artagnan, who shouted at him, not letting go of Athos' trembling body, trying to protect and calm him as best as he could:

"Fetch Aramis, quick!"

The other Musketeer nodded and ran away. D'Artagnan waited until Athos' body stopped shivering, then he reached for the cloth again and started to sponge down Athos' face, removing the layer of sweat. Looking down at Athos' left hand which the man had oddly pressed on the middle of his chest again, he noticed that Athos' shirt was soaked with sweat as well.

 _Please, noooo …._

D'Artagnan groaned inwardly, as the ailing man seemed to calm under his caring hands and finally his breathing settled again. Exhausted Athos rolled on his back, blinking heavily, he showed the first signs of waking up.

"D'Artagnan …" he whispered.

"I'm here, Athos, you are safe!" the young man told him, while holding now his left hand in his own and pressing it gently.

"So … hot …" Athos mumbled, barely audible.

"I know, Athos."

D'Artagnan whispered back, he was already looking for a cup of water when the door to the infirmary was thrown open a second time. Aramis rushed in followed by Porthos. Both men stopped at the threshold looking over at Athos first, who was moaning softly and was obviously unwell, and then questioningly towards d'Artagnan.

"What's wrong?"

Aramis asked while approaching his patient and sitting on the right side of Athos' mattress checking Athos' forehead and pulse.

"Nightmare. He's sweating and his forehead is warm." d'Artagnan explained quietly, still holding his friend's hand.

"Athos, are you awake?" Aramis asked bending closer over his friend.

"Hmm …" Athos mumbled.

"What happened?" Porthos stepped next to d'Artagnan, putting his palm on his young friend's shoulder and squeezing gently.

"Not sure, but maybe he has developed a fever. His whole body was trembling heavily only minutes ago." d'Artagnan answered quietly.

Athos, still dazed and too tired to realise what the others were talking about, looked confused at Aramis, who started to curse and then removed the bandages from his arm and thigh, freeing him from several layers of sheets first.

"Stop it …" Athos complained weakly.

"Sorry, _mon ami_ , I have to check on your wounds."

"The doctor can do this … in the morning … no need to ..." Athos told him in his typically stubborn manner.

"Athos?"

Aramis looked up, but the swordsman was gazing into the distance. As usual, after a nightmare, Athos needed several minutes to come fully back to his senses.

"Will you let me see you or fight me?" Aramis asked his voice low trying to hide his concern.

"What?" Athos mumbled.

Now more confused than ever, his mind wandered back to his nightmares. He could only remember bits and pieces. He recalled the letter as Aramis continued to remove his bandages and fuss over him. Athos ignored him.

 _Is this damn letter the key to everything? But why, and what has Milady to do with it? Are my assumptions about the assault wrong? Has the Cardinal ordered her to kill me? Is she still working for him? Why is everything so blurred? Why can't she leave my dreams? I sent her away ... Tréville ... he must know something ..._

He felt Aramis' warm hands touching his skin, removing the bandages and checking on his injured areas. He hated to be touched, to be fussed over, but this time he was glad that the medic was helping him. It grounded him and gave him the feeling that everything would be alright again. He noticed that he was sweating heavily, still felt hot and his throat was hurting him. His head started to spin and he became dizzy. Exhausted, he squeezed his eyes shut. Next to him he could hear Porthos talking quietly to d'Artagnan. Slowly he turned his head towards his brothers.

"Water … so hot …" he whispered.

Porthos glared questioningly at Aramis who inspected the stitched wound on his arm.

"I can't see any signs of infection here, but his skin is wrinkled from all the watered bandages we wrapped his arm in today. I will put a salve on the stitches and then bandage it carefully and not too tightly for the night. We need to give his skin some time to recover." he informed his friends.

Athos stayed silent, not really listening to what Aramis was saying.

 _What has Tréville not told us? He knows who is behind the attack on me? He knows. Has he met with Milady? I need to warn him … she cannot be trusted … she is dangerous … he will be in danger. Where is he? Is he still at the garrison? I wish I could do something, stand up and walk around. Why am I feeling so hot? I need water to cool down, to ease my throat ..._

"And his thigh?" D'Artagnan asked worriedly.

"I will check on it now." Aramis informed them.

Porthos stepped next to Athos and helped his brother into a sitting position, holding the cup of water so that he could reach for it and drink from it. When Athos still did not react, he pressed the cup on his lips and Athos began to drink eagerly.

"Easy, easy, slow sips!" he ordered his ill brother.

"Porthos?" Athos squinted his eyes a little and looked at him, confused.

"Yes, I am here. We are all here. You had a nightmare. How are you feeling?" he quietly asked.

"Hot." Athos answered while locking his eyes with Porthos. The strong man felt his friend's forehead with his palm.

"Aramis, he is burning up!" Porthos exclaimed, shocked.

"I know …" The medic answered shortly while probing Athos' stitched thigh looking for any signs of pus.

Aramis' touch on the painful wound made Athos flinch. Porthos left his hand on Athos's forehead a little longer to calm and reassure him and then gently stroked over his hair.

 _Why are their voices filled with so much concern? I am much better, I will recover, if only my skin didn't feel as if it was on fire. I'm so tired … wish I could get some more air. I should sleep, but I don't want to … I don't like these nightmares. Milady … why now? … I need to talk to the Captain, I need to ask him. Aramis stop it, it will hurt less when you remove your hands ..._

"Stop." Athos whispered.

"Shh … Aramis will have finished checking on you in no time. Go back to sleep, _mon ami_." the streetfighter told Athos, seeing him struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Tréville … where is … he? … need to talk … him … important." Athos slurred.

"Later!" Aramis ordered in a firm voice.

"I need …" Athos protested and started to struggle under his blankets.

Aramis paused what he was doing and looked into Athos' shimmering eyes.

"You need to rest! He will come later. Rest, sleep. You look tired."

"Important," Athos protested weakly.

Aramis sighed. He was waiting for Athos to ask what was wrong with him, why he was so hot, but the swordsman didn't ask. Something else was bothering him. If he had to guess it would most probably have to do something with his nightmares. He knew that it had been a mistake discussing what they had found out so far, in front of Athos.

"Athos, I need to check on your thigh."

Aramis cautiously told his patient again, not sure if he had already forgotten. He didn't dare say that he assumed that Athos wound was infected.

Athos let his head roll to the other side and looked at his friend, with red-rimmed eyes.

"Tréville … letter … I … know … warn him."

Athos mumbled and struggled to sit more upright but a sharp pain in his leg stopped him and he screamed out loud pressing d'Artagnan's hand tighter. Frightened, d'Artagnan looked at their medic, silently pleading for him to do something.

The medic wondered if Athos had even realised why he was checking on him. The usually quick thinking man, who had no problems processing facts in seconds, seemed to be in another world again and it frightened Aramis.

 _Is he having a setback? What will come next? How long will it take to finally get him back to his normal self? I thought he was already on the mend. Was I so wrong?_

Next to him he could hear Porthos calming Athos, while gently pressing his friend's shoulder.

"When the Captain arrives we will wake you, so that you can talk to him." Porthos calmed him, seeing no sense in fighting against Athos' plea.

"Thank you. Danger …" Athos slurred, while nodding curtly.

"Sleep now!" Porthos told him.

"My leg … it hurts ..." Athos paused.

"I'm sure it will hurt less as soon as Aramis has finished his examination." the big man answered. "Rest, close your eyes." he whispered in his ear.

Athos obeyed, closing his eyes. His exhausted body fell asleep within seconds.

"That was fast." D'Artagnan said, astonished.

"His whole body is weak and I don't like the fact that he is sweating so heavily. His forehead is too warm." Porthos answered. Then he turned his head towards Aramis. "Is Athos having a setback? Could those nightmares have caused it?" d'Artagnan wondered aloud, but he didn't receive an answer.

"Infection?" Porthos asked, concerned. Still no answer from Aramis.

Aramis bent closer over Athos' thigh. Looking closely and feeling carefully he examined the healing wound again. His fingers paused at a certain spot and probed around.

"D'Artagnan can you please come nearer with the candle? I need more light to have a better look." Aramis asked and d'Artagnan hurried to help. In the dim gleaming light Aramis checked a particular spot, poking around with his long fingers, searching for any signs of pus or any indication that something else was irritating the skin.

"Aramis?" Porthos asked a little louder, unnerved that the usually talkative man had stayed silent for so long.

Aramis felt his head spinning. The concussion was taking its toll and it took him longer than usual to check on Athos due to the severe headache. He tried to focus only on the skin and to shut out all other sounds. He let his head drop and closed his eyes, feeling slightly dizzy.

"Aramis … do I have to fetch Doctor Lemay? Do we need to reopen the stitches and clean the wound?" Porthos asked impatiently, becoming more worried with each passing minute.

Aramis struggled to straighten himself up and, feeling the need to sit down, he collapsed on the chair next to Athos' bed, leaving Athos' thigh unbandaged.

Sharing a worried glance, d'Artagnan and Porthos looked at their exhausted and weary medic. The latter drew his hand through his thick brown hair, sighed aloud and finally looked up in order to answer his brother's questions, when the door of the infirmary was thrown open for the third time in the past quarter of an hour.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _Sorry for the cliffhanger. Next chapter up as soon as my beta finds the time to proof it. I have nearly finished writing this story. My Epilogue is still missing, but everything else is written now._**

 ** _I dedicate this chapter to Tricia. Happy Birthday my friend! xx Kira_**


	46. Chapter 46

**_Morning from Europe,_**

 ** _here is the next chapter:_** ** _Do they now have to deal with infection? Will Athos be finally better?_**

 ** _In this chapter you will find out about it and perhaps you will find out about what is really going on ;-)_**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading and your lovely reviews!_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Bad enough Athos is dealing with a very bad injury, now he's dreaming of Milady and that letter trying to tie the two together. The fever coming back on him isn't doing him much good either. The inseparables as worried as ever can only keep watch and pray their friend pulls through all of this."_**

 ** _Thank you so much for your review. Will Athos be better in the next chapter? And who is at the door? xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Wow that was powerful and full of pain for Athos. I know he will survive but I don't know how much more pain he can take._** ** _Looking forward to the next chapter."_**

 ** _Thank you so much, Barbara. I wasn't sure if it was maybe too much. Well … yes I write in canon so Athos will survive ;-) no worries! Has infection set in? More in this chapter. xx Kira_**

 ** _Enjoy ch 46_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 46**

His face slightly flushed and out of breath, Tréville came rushing through the door of the infirmary. Stopping in the middle of the room his blue eyes focused first on his sleeping Lieutenant. Seeing that Athos was unresponsive, his eyes wandered with a questioning look towards his youngest Musketeer, sensing the tension in the infirmary as well as the hot and sticky air, which made it hard to breath or concentrate.

"You called for help?" he asked curtly, while moving towards Athos' body, needing to make sure if his Lieutenant was in any immediate danger.

D'Artagnan opened his mouth to answer his commanding officer, feeling his gaze directed at him, when Porthos interrupted him, standing up and walking over to where Aramis was sitting, two steps away from where the medic was leaning against the armrest of the chair with his head bent downwards, rubbing with his hands over his temples and trying to chase his own uneasiness away.

"Aramis, is it infection?" Porthos repeated now quieter and calmer than before, sensing that the medic wasn't feeling well and most probably struggling with a headache.

"Infection?" Tréville's eyes widened in horror, knowing how dangerous this diagnosis could be.

Aramis, hearing the concerned voices, forced himself to look up. His brown eyes locked with Porthos.

"I have checked on both of his wounds and they don't show any signs of pus, however I cannot explain why he is so hot." Aramis groaned aloud feeling his headache becoming worse each passing second.

Tréville stood next to d'Artagnan and looked at Athos' pale face. Seeing the fine layer of sweat on his Lieutenant's forehead, he gently touched Athos' left shoulder only to find that the sheets in which they had tucked Athos in were wet, soaked with Athos' perspiration, as was his shirt.

"Fever? It has to be. He's burning up. I will send for Doctor Lemay."

Porthos frowned, looking at his Captain, while putting his hand gently on Aramis' shoulder to give him some needed support.

"Wait!"

D'Artagnan shouted, feeling a bead of sweat running over his face, which he wiped with his shirtsleeve away, exhausted. "I think it is simply too hot in here. Look at me. I am sweating too and I am not tucked into several sheets and blankets."

"We shouldn't have put on a new fire and we ought to remove several of the blankets." Aramis sighed. "I thought his body would still need as much warmth as possible." he continued wearily.

"You could be right. It is too hot in here and the air is smelling bad." Porthos said hopefully, praying that this was the reason why Athos was so hot. "No wonder that you have such a bad headache, Aramis."

Porthos mumbled, shaking his head and suddenly feeling very tired. He hadn't noticed the bad air earlier, because he was too focused on helping to check on Athos, but now he became aware of the heavy atmosphere.

"Combined with Athos' nightmare, no wonder that he is so hot and sweating so heavily." The Gascon added.

"Athos had a nightmare?" Tréville asked, over his shoulder, while turning around and heading to the windows to open them in order to let in fresh air.

"More than one. I couldn't wake him and his whole body started to tremble, so I called for help." d'Artagnan explained, looking down on his sleeping mentor.

"You did the right thing, d'Artagnan." Aramis answered his voice still low.

"What do we do now?" d'Artagnan asked.

"Now we have to cool him down." Aramis looked up, feeling the fresh air on his face, which was now flooding into the room. The warm evening air felt good on his skin and eased the pulsing pain in his head a little.

"Shall we take him to the bath house?" Porthos asked.

"No, not this time. Removing his soaked clothes, sponging him down with cool wash clothes and changing the soaked bedding and redressing him should be sufficient." Aramis decided.

"Shall I wake him?" Porthos asked.

"No, let him rest." Aramis paused. "He doesn't like to be manhandled, so it's better he is sleeping while we are cleaning him up."

They all nodded in agreement, knowing exactly what Aramis meant and so they began the small procedure of cooling their patient down.

D'Artagnan was sent to fetch fresh water, clean clothes and linen. Aramis helped to remove the soaked linens and blankets and Tréville and Porthos were responsible for washing and redressing Athos' body in fresh clothes. Both men agreed that it would be easier to carry Athos over to a second bed, while d'Artagnan would refresh the linens on his.

Porthos went behind the sleeping man and lifted his upper body, putting both of his hands under his armpits he lifted him into an upright position, while Tréville carefully lifted his legs, placing him gently on the other be, Athos blinked, with half open eyes he looked dazedly into Porthos' warm smile.

"Hot." Athos mumbled.

"Shh … go back to sleep." Porthos advised him and the swordsman closed his eyes again.

Over the next few minutes Athos drifted in and out of consciousness. In a stupor he could hear scrap of conversation, single words, different voices. He didn't understand what was going on, but Porthos' smile being present each time his eyes fluttered open even if only for a few seconds, told him that he was safe and so he allowed himself to drift off again.

He felt something wet on his chest - Porthos sponging his chest and back, removing all sweat before drying his upper body with a towel; hands on his forehead - d'Artagnan cleaning gently his face; his body being lifted - Porthos and Tréville in order to undress and redress him.

They were gentle touches, caring impacts of warm hands on his now cooling skin, but the swordsman couldn't make the connection as to why he was still feeling uncomfortably warm, but at least the wetness was finally gone.

"Noo …" he moaned and protested, when Tréville tried -with the utmost care- to dress Athos in a fresh shirt, but he didn't open his eyes.

 _Of course, what was I thinking of? Each movement aggravates his healing wounds._

Tréville chided himself, while Porthos was still holding Athos' upper body upright in a firm but gentle grip, soothing his ailing brother, whispering words of comfort in his ear. Tréville hurried to finish his task. D'Artagnan helped them to carry Athos back on his previous, now to his freshly made bed, while Aramis gave instructions, in no shape to lift Athos at that time. When Athos was settled securely in the fresh linen and only tucked with one blanket, d'Artagnan re-bandaged his arm and thigh, while Aramis checked Athos' pulse and then rested his palm for a few moments on his friend's forehead.

"Thank God." The medic exclaimed. "His skin is cooler again and he isn't sweating anymore."

"He woke up several times while we cleaned and re-dressed him." Porthos informed him.

"That's a good sign, too. If infection had really set in, he wouldn't have shown any signs of waking at all." Aramis explained.

"I doubt that he will remember much of the whole procedure. He appears still pretty dazed to me." Porthos shrugged.

"Doctor Lemay said that he will be tired and weary for several days, because of the blood loss." Tréville answered calmly.

"I can still go and ask for Lemay." D'Artagnan offered.

"No, d'Artagnan, I think he will be alright again." Aramis shook his head. "You should go and rest. Witnessing Athos having a nasty nightmare is never easy." he added, knowing, from experience, what he was talking about.

"You should all go and rest." Tréville ordered, while sitting down on the chair d'Artagnan had occupied earlier. He spied the book which d'Artagnan had been reading earlier and picked it up.

"Warfare?" he asked curiously.

"It's one of Athos. I thought I could read out loud to him, if he couldn't sleep." D'Artagnan explained quietly.

"A good idea." Tréville nodded approvingly.

"Go, d'Artagnan. You did well." Tréville told his youngest Musketeer, who made no move, but stared at Athos' chest observing it closely as if he was waiting for Athos to stop breathing.

"He was trembling so badly …" he whispered.

"It was the nightmare, d'Artagnan. Go now. I will need you in the morning to relieve Porthos." He smiled and the young Gascon finally left the infirmary.

Porthos stepped next to Aramis and hoisted him on his feet.

"Come on, time to follow our youngest and the Captain's orders. You look like you need some beauty sleep too, not just our hedgehog over there." he grinned, indicating Athos, before addressing Tréville.

"Captain, I will release you around midnight." Porthos promised, then he shoved a reluctant medic out of the infirmary. At the threshold he turned. "Oh, before I forget, Athos wanted to talk to you. Mumbled something about "important".

"Do you know what about?" Tréville asked.

"No, I am sorry, not sure if he was still in the aftermaths of one of those nightmares and it wasn't important at all."

"Let him sleep, Captain, it's better if we don't upset him again." Aramis instructed leaning heavily on Porthos .

"What do you mean by that?" Tréville asked, irritated.

"His nightmares. I think we caused them by talking about the case with him." Aramis answered quietly.

"Athos wanted to know. Not to tell him wasn't an option, Aramis." Tréville said, a little louder, and Porthos could hear the growing anger in his Captain's voice.

"Just be careful with him. He's been through a lot and upsetting him, won't help his healing." Aramis insisted.

"Don't you think I know that?" Tréville walked over to Aramis and paused in front of him.

Exhausted eyes looked at him and the Captain of the Musketeers knew that he had to calm his own temper. Not only Athos had been through a lot, but Aramis too. He was still suffering from the injury he had sustained as well. How could he have forgotten that? Aramis would always protect Athos and if it meant arguing with him, he was prepared to do so. No matter what the consequences would be.

"Come, Aramis." Porthos growled a little louder, seeing that this discussion would lead nowhere.

"Captain, please. I don't want to …" Aramis voice broke and the medic stayed silent.

"Aramis, I appreciate your concern. I will, let him sleep, but if he wakes up and wants to talk about whatever is important to him, I will listen to him. You would do the same." Tréville said quietly.

"Just be careful." Aramis repeated. "Athos thinks that he is better, I know him. In those moments he can overestimate his own strength and pay dearly for it afterwards. So, whatever it is that troubles him, try to be sensitive enough to order him to rest."

"I hear you Aramis, I will be cautious. Nevertheless, if he wants to talk about something, we both know that we cannot stop him and trying to do so, will only upset him more." A small smile crossed Tréville's face and he gently pressed his medic's shoulder. "Time for you to go and rest, Aramis. That's an order."

Aramis nodded, feeling his head aching. Quietly and gratefully, the medic accepted Porthos' help and together they left the infirmary.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Later in the infirmary_**

Captain Tréville yawned, stretched his arms in the air and walked quietly over to one of the open windows of the infirmary to breathe in some fresh air. Outside it was already dark and the temperature had dropped noticeably. Tréville moved from one window to the next, closing one after another, now that the infirmary wasn't smelling so humid and warm any longer.

For the past hour he had sat in silence and deep in thought next to his sleeping Lieutenant. Aramis' words of warning were still echoing through his head. He wondered if the medic was right. Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until the next day to talk to Athos. Nevertheless he wanted to speak to him about something important and if he woke during the time he was on watch and started to talk, he knew that he wouldn't stop him, would answer his questions and ask his own.

The Captain of the Musketeers stood a little longer at the last open window, from where he could look directly into the courtyard. His gaze was directed towards the gleaming stars in the dark firmament. It was a quiet night, other than some whispering from the soldiers on guard duty in front of the infirmary and at the main gate, he didn't hear much noise.

When he turned around -several minutes later- his gaze fell upon Athos' pale face which he could see in the dim candle light. Two green, half opened eyes were observing his every move. Tréville wasn't sure if Athos was to be about to wake up or had already woken up. He slowly made his way back to the chair on Athos' right side and sat down, noticing that Athos' eyes were following him, but the swordsman didn't say a word. The Captain of the Musketeers waited in silence next to him, as the latter turned his head towards him and opened his mouth. The sick man wanted to say something, but his voice betrayed him and so Tréville could only hear a rasp.

"Here, some water will help you." Tréville advised his officer, reaching him a cup.

If Athos was confused about the fact that he was again alone with his commanding officer, he didn't show it. Gratefully he accepted the cup with his left hand and managed to lift his head without Tréville's help to drink several sips and to clear his throat. The cool water felt good. He carefully licked his lips, then he gave the cup back to Tréville, who was standing, ready to intervene if he needed any help.

"Thanks." Athos mumbled after he had cleared his throat a second time.

"How do you feel?" Tréville asked, sitting down again.

Athos stayed silent. He had woken up several minutes earlier, after chasing the cobwebs in his mind away. He still felt the pain in his leg and arm, but he didn't feel so hot anymore and his shirt wasn't soaked in his own sweat any longer.

He assumed that his brothers must have helped to change his clothes. He only remembered Porthos' smiling face leaning over him and his strong hands holding him, but everything else was hidden behind a misty shroud and, if he was honest with himself, he was glad that he didn't remember every detail. The many sheets and blankets were gone, only one warm blanket had been left, his own blue one. He embraced the new found feeling of freedom, suddenly no longer captured by the fabrics, which had made it nearly impossible for him to move and made him feel like a prisoner.

Athos looked around curiously and realised very quickly that his brothers had left the infirmary. Only Tréville was with him. He observed his commanding officer, standing in the dim moon light near a window.

Athos thoughts returned to the previous events and revelations. The talk with his brothers, his nightmares and he stumbled over one detail he couldn't really work out. Was he going insane or had Tréville lied to him? He needed to know and he felt an urge to ask his questions. After the Captain had returned to his side, helped him to drink and asked him about his well-being Athos opened his mouth once more. Ignoring Tréville's concerned question he only said quietly:

"She's back."

The swordsman had wanted to sound stronger and more confident but his voice failed him and that frustrated him. He felt so vulnerable, and he couldn't hide his emotions. Unable to look into his Captain's eyes he looked down at his body and his eyes rested on his bandaged arm, which was lying on top of his blanket- still immobile, freshly bandaged, but without the scarf around it.

Tréville held his breath. He was caught off guard and had to control his expression. Athos hadn't phrased these three words as a question, but as a fact and the way Athos' reacted as he said them aloud, confirmed to Tréville that his earlier decision not to tell him had been the right one. He was still convalescing from his wounds and he needed all his remaining strength to heal, not upsetting himself with the question of what his treacherous, cunning wife was still doing in Paris.

 _He knows … of course … How could I think that his sharp mind wouldn't figure it out sooner or later. He has heard bits and pieces of what I have found out so far. Now what? Shall I ask curiously "who"? Shall I deny his assumption? No, I cannot lie to him. I wanted to spare him, to protect him, but I can't do that anymore. I need to tell him the truth._

Exhausted, Tréville held his breath for several seconds and drew his right hand over his face. This obvious sign that he was thinking hard about something was the hint for Athos, who had heard the movement of Tréville's hand, that his assumption had been correct. He slowly raised his head and searched the Captain's blue eyes.

"I …" Tréville hesitated, struggling for the right words.

"Captain, please. Don't lie to me." Athos calmly said. Gazing at his commanding officer, he continued: "A woman bringing a letter with my blood on it to the palace … a man with a cut throat … a woman coming to the garrison, asking for Aramis … a mysterious informant you cannot name …

All these clues are screaming that my wife is involved. It carries her fingerprint." Athos firmly stated the facts he had assimilated in the past few hours, but he couldn't hide his tiredness.

The former Comte wasn't sure how he found out about it. Perhaps it was the fact that Tréville had tried to avoid the topic. Of course his nightmares had helped him to come to the conclusion that Milady had to be involved somehow. He had hoped for a different answer from his Captain. Athos began to move restlessly under his blanket, trying to find a more comfortable position and he felt his right arm starting to throb again.

Tréville stopped him by putting a hand on his upper right shoulder, searching his Lieutenant's eyes.

"Athos I never wanted to …" Tréville paused again seeing Athos fighting to control his emotions.

"There is only one conclusion. It has to be her …" Athos mumbled after several seconds of silence and when Tréville quietly nodded, he closed his eyes, in frustration.

"Is she … behind … the attack … on me … on my life? ..." he gasped feeling his arm pulsing more strongly than before and suppressing another moan.

"As far as I know she isn't." Tréville quietly answered him, aware of Athos' unstable state.

"Why?"

Athos looked into Tréville's face sadly. The Captain of the Musketeers understood that Athos' question wasn't linked to why Milady was back, but more about why he had lied to him.

"I wanted to protect you." Tréville found his voice again. "You were in no condition to hear about it earlier."

Again silence settled between the two men who knew each other so well.

"Would you have ever told me? …" Athos mumbled while he looked down on his aching right arm.

"Probably not. I had wished that she would have stayed a ghost from the past for you." Tréville admitted and Athos exhaled loudly. He closed his eyes trying to get a hold on his emotions, not letting his commanding officer see the moisture forming in his eyes. On the one hand he felt disappointed that Tréville had decided to lie to him, on the other hand he understood why he had wanted to protect him. The care Tréville was showing him touched him more deeply than he wanted to admit to himself.

Tréville thought that his exhausted Lieutenant had already fallen asleep again and he wondered if it wouldn't have been better to follow Aramis' advise and let him rest. He went to get up and give Athos some space, when the injured man -sensing that Tréville was about to leave- opened his eyes again.

"You cannot trust her. She is dangerous." Athos stated firmly, searching his Captain's eyes.

"I know, Athos … I will never trust her, not after what she did to you, to your brother. She tried to kill you. I haven't forgotten that! She worked as an assassin for the Cardinal. She was behind the assassination attempt on the Queen. I agree with you, Athos, she is a very dangerous woman." Tréville replied softly.

Athos stayed silent for several more minutes. He was so tired of all of this, but the urge to hear the whole story made him ask more questions.

"What did she want? Why did she reach out to you?" Athos asked and Tréville noticed his confusion.

"It may sound weird, but I believe she wanted to help save you." Tréville looked into Athos' green eyes.

"She really tried to help me?" Athos wondered aloud, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why should she? She wanted to murder me a few weeks ago …" he mumbled.

"Athos, I don't know. This woman is a mystery to me. When we met she asked for money, if that helps at all." Tréville smiled at him warmly, but Athos did not react to this revelation.

"So what did she tell you?" he asked, fighting hard to suppress his emotions with difficulty. Tréville started from the beginning, telling his Lieutenant all that Milady had told him.

"It all started when she eavesdropped a conversation at _Château de Fontainebleau …_

Athos listened eagerly to his Captain's report suddenly understanding how the letter he should have delivered was brought by Milady to the palace. But Tréville didn't stop there with his report, but filled his Lieutenant in about the talk Milady had overheard between the Cardinal and Don Fernando the previous day.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Flashback_**

 ** _One day ago - Milady eavesdropping at the Cardinal and Don Fernando_**

Milady kept hidden next to the opened window, where Don Fernando and Richelieu had met in secret. The Cardinal had wished to find another table, but the in-keeper had shown them to this table and he didn't want to attract any more attention than necessary.

"What do you want here? Wasn't our agreement clear? No contact here in Paris? So what went wrong?" Richelieu had said angrily, in a low voice. It was obvious to Don Fernando that the Cardinal was about to leave - he had to prevent that under any circumstances.

"I am sorry, Cardinal, but the first assault failed because …" he tried to calm the angry churchman.

"Not a further word. Our deal is off, besides the whole plan was a huge mistake. Badly planned from the beginning. You promised me a perfect plan. Not this chaos." Richelieu huffed, while pointing angrily at Don Fernando's chest.

"The men I engaged have fulfilled their task, the Mus …" when Don Fernando saw the dangerous glare in Richelieu's eyes he hastily corrected himself " the person ... simply made the mistake to survive."

"He's trained for that." Richelieu mocked him. "I told you that it wouldn't be an easy task." He added his voice still dangerously low.

"I'll try again. The mercenaries I engaged are all dead … so no witnesses … I have several other men in mind, who are more capable ..." Don Fernando answered apologetically in a low voice.

"No the deal is off … it's too dangerous, besides the men you employed have attacked the wrong person."

"What?" Don Fernando stammered and paled.

"I gave you an accurate description of his size, of his appearance, his eye colour. Is it so hard to pass the information on…? The man your mercenaries attacked did not have brown eyes."

Richelieu whispered the last part, but Milady could hear him nevertheless. She pressed her ear next to the wall. Her face hidden under her cape, she acted like a drunk woman. Some women who walked by looked away, disgusted and hurried not offering any help.

 _"_ _So Richelieu had ordered the assault on a Musketeer, but not on Athos, but someone else. Brown eyes … a lot of Musketeers have brown eyes"._ Milady thought.

"I … You never gave me his name … only a Musketeer that would arrive at the Château … the description you gave me fitted - brown hair, the right size, that's why I gave him the letter I asked Dona Ynes-Mancía to write in response … it was the signal to my hired mercenaries that he was the correct target … You cannot blame me for giving me insufficient information or the wrong man being sent, Cardinal Richelieu. This was your mistake not mine, but I am ready to ..."

Don Fernando was searching for the right words. He was shocked at the revelation that they had attacked the wrong man. His well thought out plan not only failed in killing this soldier, but now the Musketeer's Captain had started to become suspicious.

Richelieu could see the Spaniard's face paling. Don Fernando coughed nervously and then continued, gathering his thoughts in order to convince Richelieu that they still could make things right.

"You wanted your mistress' lover to be killed. You said the man who would deliver the letter from the Queen to Dona Ynes-Mancía would be the right person."

Don Fernando tried to protest. When he raised his voice, Richelieu grabbed his left hand and dug his fingernails into his skin, giving him a sign to stay quiet.

"I never told you the reason … you simply offered your services and I accepted it. You wanted something from me!" the Cardinal hissed. "Anyway, why do you think this man was the lover of a mistress of mine?"

"Don't you think I checked for possible reasons … there had been rumours that a Musketeer was having an affair with one of your- let's call them- "special" women."

Don Fernando laughed a little too loudly and hysterically.

Richelieu wondered if the Spaniard was on the verge of becoming insane.

"From whom have you heard these rumours?" the Cardinal asked angrily.

"Don't be so naive, your Eminence. King Philippe has enough men in his service who are excellent spies." he whispered back.

"Why else would you want to see a Musketeer dead? I can put one and one together … you are very well known for being vindictive."

Don Fernando pulled his arm back drew with all his strength and Richelieu loosened his grip. The Spaniard reached for a piece of white fabric and wiped the blood spots which the Cardinal's fingernails had left on the back of his hand away angrily.

"Anyway … I said it could be the man … I never said it would be … that's why I gave you a detailed description. You should have checked his eye colour ..."

Richelieu breathed sharply through his nose. He didn't like the fact that Don Fernando had figured out that the Musketeer had had an affair with his mistress.

 _What else does he know? Her name? That she is dead and that I gave the order? … It's time to put an end to all of this. Better I leave now and order one of my Red Guards to get rid of him- permanently._

The Cardinal tried to stand up but Don Fernando intervened.

"At least let us have a drink. If you leave without having something to drink people will get suspicious."

Richelieu leaned back in his chair carefully. He surveyed the pale and slightly grey face of Don Fernando. A layer of sweat had formed on the man's forehead. With a short nod and an angry glare towards the Spaniard, he waited for the innkeeper to bring them their drinks. A deathly silence fell between the two men, as the owner of the tavern approached with their glasses and a bottle of wine. Richelieu started to sip at the cheap wine -which tasted of cheap alcohol- quietly. Disgusted, he put it down and pushed it away from him. It made an odd noise as it scraped across the wooden table.

"You pay." Richelieu said in a cold, firm voice.

Don Fernando nodded.

"Give me the name of the man and I will …" he started again.

"Aramis." Richelieu laughed out loud. "He's a very lucky man … he just doesn't know it…"

The Cardinal breathed in … a plan forming in his mind … Don Fernando wouldn't survive this day, so he could play along and give him some half-truths. "You were right, he was my mistress' lover. I killed her… Richelieu paused again. "He doesn't know that, he believes that she has left him and lives on one of my estates outside of Paris. Now that your plan failed … I think that perhaps one day I will tell him, but for now … he is very fortunate to live in ignorance of the truth, believing she is still alive. Our deal is off, Don Fernando. I am afraid your niece will have to marry that Italian nobleman and won't become a widow afterwards. There will be no attack on the road …" The Cardinal paused, realising that it wasn't necessary to go into further detail. "Ensure you leave Paris quickly and never return."

He whispered in a calm, but dangerous voice.

"Can't we …" Don Fernando tried again, realizing that this was his last chance to save his plan.

"No, we can't!" Richelieu said angrily. "I suspect Captain Tréville has already become suspicious. You ordered the assault on his Lieutenant. I know Tréville. He is a very capable soldier. There is a reason why our King trusts him. He cares a lot for this young Musketeer your hired men injured, even made him to his Lieutenant shortly after he joined the Musketeers and received his commission. Athos of the Musketeers is a brilliant swordsman, an excellent strategist in warfare and, more importantly, Tréville trusts him and considers him as the son he never had."

"Will he survive?" Don Fernando asked, his cheeks burning.

"Probably. He is stubborn." Richelieu rose from his chair. "Leave Paris and forget about that we ever met …" With these words the Cardinal left the stunned and troubled Don Fernando.

Richelieu knew that he now had to get rid of Don Fernando as well. He had told him too much and revealed that he had killed Adele. Tréville had started his investigation and he would not give up until he would have a sufficient explanation as to why Athos had been attacked. True, Athos had threatened him several days ago when they met at _Jardin du Luxembourg_ , but he had only been protecting his fellow Musketeers. He knew that Athos was loyal to the King and Queen and that was all that mattered for now. He wouldn't risk killing him without good reason. The risk that Tréville would come after him was too great. Aramis was a different matter. He hurried out of the shabby tavern and vanished into a dark lane. Milady had heard and witnessed enough.

 _So Athos was never the target but Aramis was, because he was having an affair with Adele. What kind of a flawed plan was this? The Cardinal has become sloppy. Nevertheless, through his order my husband nearly got killed. Richelieu threatened to murder me, now Aramis … I have to warn him … He has to know … I won't tell him that Adele is dead … but I will inform him who is behind the attack and that he was the real target._

 ** _End of Flashback_**

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _Thank you so much to my beta Tricia for proofreading this chapter. xx Kira_**


	47. Chapter 47

**_Hey,_**

 ** _I am back with the chapter which probably will give you a lot of answers … Thank you for still sticking with me, reading and leaving a positive review. It means a lot._**

 ** _I want to say thank you to Mountain Cat who helped me with ch 46 and ch 47 to check for possible plot holes and I want to thank you Tricia as well, who helped my proofing this chapter. (Funny: when she sent me the first beta version she asked me if it was possible that something was missing – indeed the 3 most important pages vanished … they are back now!)_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie_**

 ** _"_** ** _First they make him warm and comfy and now find out they shouldn't have. Good deeds sometimes go awry, as in this case. And what a surprise... Aramis was the target.  
It's a good thing Milady still has some concern for Athos to have gone to Treville with information. What a nasty web that was weaved and then royally backfired."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review, Debbie. Well, yes sorry for the cliffhanger. It is time for Athos to heal so no fever, no infection, but simply a too hot room. Good intentions …_**

 ** _Do you remember Richelieu's facial expression when he heard about Athos being injured … well … from that point on you could have guessed that something was not fitting lol ;-)_**

 ** _So, what more will they find out in this chapter … is there more …? xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara_**

 ** _"_** ** _Just when I thought I had it worked out I'm back to being confused! At least Athos has no infection and just needs rest to recover. Should I worry about Aramis now?  
Looking forward to next chapter." xx Kira_**

 ** _Thank you for your review, Barbara. I have no idea if you should worry about Aramis … lol … well maybe you should, because … you will see ;-)_**

 ** _No no infection at all, sorry for the cliffhanger. Athos is finally healing and on the mend. Promise ;-)_**

* * *

 **Enjoy ch 47 … Athos would say or think …** ** _and there is more_** **…** **xx Kira**

* * *

 **Chapter 47**

"She confirmed that the Cardinal had ordered the attack on a Musketeer." Tréville answered carefully.

Athos held his breath. Tréville hadn't said his name.

"He didn't order the attack on me, did he?" Athos scanned the face of his Captain.

Tréville quietly shook his head.

 _If Richelieu didn't want to see me dead … who else? Wait! Tréville asked me about Aramis. He wanted to know if Aramis was having an affair with a married woman. He was_ _never_ _referring or even thinking about Aramis and the Queen, but he was trying to find out if Milady was telling him the truth about Aramis and ..._

"Adele …" Athos mumbled and his eyes widened in shock. "Richelieu ordered Aramis' death." he added, a little louder.

 _When Tréville met with Milady she must have informed him about Aramis and Adele. Has the Cardinal ordered an attack on Aramis' life, because he had an affair with Adele? But why now? Isn't that all a little too far- fetched? Had Milady overheard this when she listened to a conversation between Richelieu and Don Fernando? Tréville must have had the same doubts. That's why he had to ask me and I gave him the answers he needed ..._

"According to Milady yes, but as we both know she is a woman hardly to be trusted and I needed to talk with you first, to finally confirm what she told me. I am sorry that I didn't tell you who my informant was, Athos … I ..."

Athos groaned out loud.

 _Would the Cardinal really order Aramis to be murdered because of Adele or is there more to it? Is he guessing that Aramis and the Queen had an affair and assumes that Aramis is the father of her child? No… no … nooo … This can't be … The only people who knew about that night are the Queen, Aramis and myself. The Queen would never say a word about it. She knows that it would endanger her life, the life of her child and Aramis would take this secret to his grave. I certainly haven't told anyone about it … but what if the Cardinal suspects something …?_

 _Just to be on the safe side he would order someone's death … he is that would be his way of dealing with the problem … He ordered the assassination of the Queen so that Louis would have been able to marry Charlotte Mellendorf … Always in the best interest of France-, if he now assumes, or even suspects, that Aramis is the father of the Queen's child … if he has seen the glances they both have shared, as I have ..._

Athos shuddered, if he was honest with himself, that would be the only explanation as to why the Cardinal would risk to giving the order to kill Aramis- in order to protect the King, the Queen and the Dauphin. Rumours, however minor initially, could become a major threat to the King, his family and endanger France and thus the power and position of the Cardinal. Richelieu would not take that risk.

"Are you alright?" Athos could hear Tréville's voice as if from a distance.

"I will be." Athos whispered.

"So you can confirm what Milady told me, that Aramis was having an affair with Adele and

Richelieu found out about it?"

"He might have found out … but I don't know how. Anyway, that was months ago. Adele has left Paris, I believe she is living at one of Richelieu's estates in the countryside. Milady could have lied to you. Richelieu could have meant me as well. I told the others and you, that I threatened him. I threatened his power and he knows that I am quite capable of informing the King as to what happened." Athos protested.

"Of course, he could have meant you as well, Athos. Aramis told me earlier what happened several days ago. Tréville didn't rebuke Athos for not coming to him and informing him about the incident. Now was not the time. "But I doubt it. He knows that you are loyal."

"Me loyal!" Athos huffed. "And Aramis is not?" he glared angrily at Tréville.

"If Richelieu had found out about the affair between Aramis and Adele, it would have given him a good reason to kill or at least order an assault on Aramis. When Don Fernando appeared with his offer, he took his chance." Tréville told Athos briefly what Dona Ynes-Mancía had told him earlier. Then he continued. "Athos, I know that Richelieu is a very dangerous man, he has killed for very minor reasons before. Now he took the opportunity to see his revenge being fulfilled. He can be a very unforgiving man and he is patient enough to wait until the right moment or opportunity comes along to give such an order, even if it were months after Aramis had terminated his relationship with Adele." Tréville added thoughtfully.

"But how did he know that Aramis would be the one to deliver the Queen's letter to Château de Fontainebleau?" Athos asked unconvinced.

"We still need to find the missing link, but we will. I am sure of it." Tréville paused when he noticed Athos growing paler.

 _He must never know. Of course, if Richelieu suspects that Aramis and the Queen are intimately involved he can count two and two together and assume that Aramis would volunteer to deliver the letter, in order to take the opportunity to see the Queen._ _His plan nearly worked. Aramis offered to go to the palace and deliver the letter. He hoped to talk to her in private and I knew that. That's why I went instead … However I didn't talk to the Queen in person. When I arrived at the palace to receive the letter, one of her valets gave it to me, but I was in her quarters. Aramis would have used the opportunity to speak to her ..._

"Athos? I have already taken enough of your time. I should let you sleep."

Tréville said carefully, not sure why Athos was suddenly so silent, but decided that the weakened man simply needed rest- besides the swordsman wasn't a very talkative man.

"No, it's fine." Athos shook his head. "I assume that the Cardinal had given Don Fernando a description." Athos paused. "This whole plot sounds like a ridiculous charade."

"You mean that Don Fernando approached the Cardinal and asked him to kill his niece's fiancé?" Tréville asked.

"I mean, honestly, how could he think that this would be the perfect crime? That we would not figure it out? Even if Aramis had been injured and was in my place right now instead … we would have started to investigate and come to the same conclusions." Athos interjected.

"It could have worked. If Milady hadn't witnessed everything and informed me about it." Tréville quietly told him.

"Let's play it through. What has An … Milady told you about why the Cardinal was so upset and cancelled the deal with Don Fernando?"

"According to her, he had given an exact description of Aramis. You are the same height, then brown hair, dark brown eyes, a beard."

"True." Athos mumbled. "So what went wrong?" Athos wondered aloud.

"Don Fernando didn't check your eye colour and the mercenaries he hired didn't pay attention. They thought the Musketeer who would arrive at the château would be the target. No matter what. The plot was maybe well thought through at one point, but they hired the wrong men or gave them too little information to fulfill the devilish task. The sign that you were the right person was the letter you received from Dona Ynes-Mancía to deliver to the Queen."

"So much for a well-considered plan!" Athos huffed.

"Don Fernando was afraid that the Cardinal would not fulfill his promise after he found out through my and d'Artagnan's visit, that you were still alive. He hurried afterwards to Paris, and while talking to the Cardinal, who already knew that it had been you who had been injured but not Aramis, the Cardinal called the whole conspiracy off."

"This is what Milady had overheard?"

Tréville nodded.

"So there is no margin left for an error that he could have meant me after all?" Athos asked slowly.

"No, the target had always been Aramis." Tréville stated calmly.

"What will you do now?" Athos asked quietly.

"I will wake that fool and tell him. Now that I have the confirmation, at least he shall know what has caused all of this." He prodded on Athos' injured arm in his agitation.

"Don't." Athos protested. A sudden fear gripped him which he couldn't really explain.

"Why?" Tréville looked confused at his Lieutenant.

"I know him … it will eat at him and ... he will leave." Athos paused.

"I should court-martial him, having an affair with the mistress of the Cardinal. He knew what he was doing and he knew that it would endanger his life and, as a matter of fact, not only his." Tréville shouted angrily.

Athos knew that Tréville had only started.

"Through his adventurous love life he endangered your life, Athos! A Musketeer has to be loyal to the King and to all who serve the King. The Cardinal is the most powerful man next to King Louis in France. Why do you think the Queen hasn't told her husband what Richelieu did?"

"She knows that King Louis needs his advice." Athos answered tiredly.

He didn't want to fight with his Captain, but he knew that, for now, it would be better that Aramis didn't know that he had been the target and not him. When he heard about it tonight, he would go and confess everything to Tréville about him and the Queen and the Captain would have to deal then with the fact that Aramis had committed treason.

"Richelieu knows how powerful he is and if he wants to have a mistress ..." Tréville exclaimed.

"A church man isn't allowed to have any women." Athos mocked.

"You think that would stop a man like Richelieu? He doesn't care about anything, except France and his power. He doesn't care about church rules, he doesn't care what the Pope says and orders from Rome. Sometimes I even doubt that he cares what the bible says and certain he thinks that no one – not even God- will be able to stop him." Tréville snorted while shouting.

"Don't tell Aramis." Athos repeated his plea a little louder.

"I will have him on stable duty or in chains for several days for this."

Tréville shouted now angrily seeing Athos lying in front of him in his still weak state and allowing finally himself to believe that Aramis' recklessness had caused him nearly to lose Athos.

The Captain of the Musketeers jumped to his feet and was ready to rush towards the door when he felt something strong on his shirt pulling him back. Irritated, he turned around and looked down breathing heavily when he saw what was holding him back.

"Please." Athos whispered his voice filled with pain. "Don't tell him. We will lose him and I'm not ready for that. Not now." Athos pleaded him feeling his whole body in pain.

Tréville didn't say a word but simply stared, mouth wide open at his Lieutenant, who was pulling on his shirt with his right hand -his fingers firmly gripping the soft fabric- in order to stop him from punishing Aramis.

"I need him. He's my friend." Athos gasped, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead, and he groaned aloud in pain.

Tréville calmed at once. He gently put his hand on Athos' who was still staring despairingly into his face. Tréville gently loosened the fingers that were clutching at the fabric of his shirt and, with the utmost care he put Athos' arm back on his chest, not letting go of his hand.

Athos, feeling the sudden movement and his right arm hurting, lowered his gaze and froze.

"I told you, you would be able to move it again." Tréville whispered gently, dropping down onto his chair.

Athos stayed silent. It took him a moment to realise what just had happened. He had moved his arm again! He had used his fingers in order to stop Tréville from doing something that might lead to a catastrophe. He breathed in and out slowly several times to calm his unsettled nerves whilst struggling to suppress his unshed tears.

"Why don't you want me to tell Aramis?" Tréville asked quietly, sensing that Athos was fighting to control his emotions.

"I will need him over the next few weeks, so that my arm can heal properly. If he knew he would feel guilty each time he saw me. I doubt that I could bear that. Not now." Athos mumbled while thinking feverishly what he should tell Tréville, to prevent him talking to Aramis that night.

 _One lie is following another. Fair enough, Tréville lied to me, not telling me that Milady is back. He wanted to protect me. If this is the only chance to protect Aramis, I have to lie now too. Besides I imagine that Aramis would leave and I really will need his help to pull through this whole nightmare._

"He ought to feel miserable." Tréville ranted. "This would have never happened to …"

"I'm a soldier. Something like this can always happen to me … to us … Really, Captain, you know that."

Athos said while reaching for his right hand with his left. He started to massage his palm slowly. He still needed time to process the fact that he was able to use his arm, hand and fingers again. "Besides, one of Porthos' card games could have endangered my life as well or d'Artagnan's thirst for justice or me drinking too much in a tavern. We all have our weak spots, Captain - not just Aramis." Athos added.

"At one point you'll have to tell him, Athos. Do you really think he would be happy about being lied to?" Tréville asked.

"No. I will tell him. It was me who was hurt and I forgive him." he added with a calm voice.

"We have to tell him, Athos. What happens if the Cardinal tries it again? We need to be prepared. I don't want to lose him. He's a fine soldier, my best sharpshooter and a fine medic." Tréville told Athos.

"All I am asking of you is to give me a little more time to find the right moment to tell him in person. For now, you simply have to order him to take care of me until we can come up with a plan how we can protect him. No palace guard for him for the next few weeks will be a start." Athos answered, exhausted.

Tréville, sensing that Athos needed rest and not more agitation, leant back on his chair.

"Alright, Athos. I won't tell him tonight, but you have to promise me that you will tell him."

"Duly noted." Athos answered shortly.

"So what shall I tell them?" Tréville asked cautiously back. "They will ask questions."

"That your informant overheard that Richelieu wanted to see a Musketeer dead, most probably me because I threatened him. This will be enough of an explanation for now. No need to mention Milady." Athos stated firmly.

He yawned then he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in order to avoid any more questions from his Captain and having to concoct more lies. His head started to hurt him again and although he tried his best to calm down and fall asleep he remained wide awake, just as the man who was watching next to him over him sensed, deep down, that he had missed something important.

Tréville knew that he had reacted somewhat harshly towards Aramis. Athos had been right. His men were far away from being perfect and they had endangered each other's lives now and then, but every time they had had each others' backs and lived for the motto _all for one and one for all_.

He could accept that Athos wanted to tell Aramis when he was better and he was sure that his Lieutenant would keep his promise. Besides, he doubted that the Cardinal would make a second attempt on Aramis' life too soon. Don Fernando's offer had been a good opportunity for the Cardinal. The offer to have the perfect alibi and to get rid of a person he detested. He assumed that this had been the only reason why Richelieu had considered to agree to this weird plan which Don Fernando had approached him with in the first place.

When he realised that the plan had failed he had called it off at once, making sure that that there were no leads to implicate him in the assassination attempt on Aramis' life. Trying it again, at this time would only make him look suspicious and the risk for the Cardinal of losing his power was too high. Tréville still had not figured out why the Cardinal thought that Aramis would deliver the missive of the Queen, but he guessed that it had been a failure in communication which lead to the mistaken identity of Aramis and Athos and the fact that Richelieu hadn't given Don Fernando Aramis' name in first place so as not to give too much information away and why exactly he wanted to see him dead.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _A little earlier in the Cardinal's quarters_**

Richelieu was pacing restlessly back and forth in his office. He had crossed the large room with the dark floor and the dark wooden ceiling several times now, walking in circles. His steps echoed loudly, but he ignored the noise. The few candles, which where lighting the big room, threw large shadows over the floor.

Richelieu didn't notice that it had become darker and darker over the past hour. He had returned from the evening mass, deep in thought, and asked his Captain of the Red Guards to be ensured he was left alone and not disturbed.

The talk with Don Fernando had made him restless.

 _Did someone notice me with the Spaniard? Did someone follow me?_

Richelieu wasn't sure. At one point he paused, stepping up to one of the larger windows, which was situated near his desk and looked outside. It was already night. During the day, he would have been able to see the _Seine_ , one of the major bridges in the background and further down, the treeline which marked the border to the nearest forest, where King Louis enjoyed hunting with noble guests. But now Richelieu didn't think of Louis at all. He was in a dark place and the darkness outside resembled his own dark mood.

The plan had been well thought through and when the opportunity had presented itself he had thought:

 _Why not? It would be my chance! Why not finally get rid of this annoying Musketeer! I have to see him every day at the Court, parading in his blue uniform in front of me. Flirting with several of the ladies-in-waiting, throwing them lustful and charming glances_.

This man had stolen something which was precious to him - Adele. Not that the Musketeer was an immediate threat to him, but the Cardinal didn't like to be played and, in this case, the man had crossed a line too many and, since the failed murder attempt on the Queen's life, Aramis might have become a threat not only to his power, but to France as well. He wasn't blind.

Over the past few weeks Richelieu had watched from a distance and had noted the meaningful glances the attractive Musketeer had shared with Queen Anne, which she answered with not only a shy smile, but -when she thought that she wasn't watched- with enamoured glances as well.

Of course, Richelieu had seen those glances between Aramis and other women at the Court too, but he had never really looked this way at his Queen before. It all changed after he had ordered Milady to kill the Queen. When Queen Anne returned after her ordeal at the Convent to _le Louvre_ he had noticed several times how Aramis and Queen Anne had repeatedly shared glances or whispered in a hidden corner. Several weeks later Queen Anne had announced that she was with child.

Naturally a doubting person, Cardinal Richelieu had wondered if King Louis could be the father. Of course, Queen Anne had been sent away to those holy waters in order to help her to get finally pregnant, but she had been on her own in the Convent.

 _Ha, a miracle … I doubt that something like this does exist. I had to work hard to achieve my position as the First Minister of France. Nothing was ever given me or granted me by God. I had to fight to reach the position I am now in._

Richelieu snorted aloud and stepped away from the window. Exhausted, he dropped onto the chair near his desk.

Unlike the King and many people of France, he didn't believe in such things as holy waters. The fact that Queen Anne had stayed at this Convent for one night only guarded by two Musketeers made him suspicious.

Of course, he had no proof, but he had started to observe the Queen and Aramis more closely. It didn't go unnoticed by him that whenever the Musketeer's marksman tried to approach the Queen Athos had called him back. He had wondered if the Musketeer's Lieutenant, who had been with Aramis and the Queen at the Convent, probably knew more.

Of course these were only assumptions!

 _But what would be if I am right?_

 _What would happen if a valet or a lady-in-waiting found out?_

 _Rumours would not only spread through the Court, but would soon reach the streets and places within Paris. From there it would spread out to other cities and villages of France. The Spanish Queen isn't as respected and loved by the people as the King might think. These rumours could threaten the Monarchy, and thus the whole France and of course my own position._

Richelieu didn't want to take any chances. He knew that he needed to be attentive, to observe more closely. The fact that Aramis had slept with Adele had hurt him deeply. This woman had betrayed him. He hadn't had any qualms about arranging the death of a Musketeer, especially of this Musketeer. He could be wrong, but if there was a chance to get rid of Aramis, he would take it.

 _Why not? It wasn't a bad idea, it was simply the wrong man I entrusted with this assignment. I should have known better, that Don Fernando could fail and most likely would_ _..._

Richelieu had thought about killing Aramis much earlier; shortly after he had found out about Adele's betrayal. In his service, there were many spies who could do such a deed for him for some extra money:

 _A cut with a knife in the back, at night, in a dark alley while the man returned from a tavern._

Or he could have easily asked some of his Red Guards to arrange something - an accident, a fatal struggle in a shabby tavern - but Tréville was an intelligent and dangerous man and he would have started an investigation. The risk that the Captain of the Musketeers could find enough evidence which would led directly to him and would thus endanger his position and possibly lead to the loss of his carefully built up power and, perhaps even the loss of his life, was too high.

Richelieu didn't want to take any chances. He could wait for the right moment and after months the opportunity had come. He had learned early that it was better to put personal feelings sometimes aside to reach greater goals and reigning de facto over France had always been his higher aim.

 _No one can stop me, not even God himself._ he told himself over and over again.

King Louis was listening to his advice, doing what he wanted him to do. In this position he would have been mad to take the unnecessary risk that Tréville would find out about his little act of revenge.

But then - several weeks ago, shortly after the Queen had announced that she was with child - Don Fernando had appeared. A former diplomat of the Spanish King, he had met him several times on different occasions. He never liked the Spaniard, nevertheless the man had great influence at the Spanish court and he was intelligent, which made him dangerous. Each time this man left, Richelieu crossed himself three times, in the hope that he wouldn't have to deal with him as the Spanish ambassador in Paris.

He was astonished to hear from him again and was curious to find out why he reached out to him. At first Don Fernando had announced his visit to Paris through a letter. One week later they had met privately. He was on his way to Italy, where his niece wanted to marry an important nobleman.

The Cardinal hadn't been sure if Queen Anne had been so delighted to meet her annoying cousin, a woman she barely knew. He soon figured out that he didn't like the woman, who treated her servants with disrespect and made fun of them. He wasn't astonished at all when he heard from Don Fernando that his request had to do with this beautiful woman. The Spaniard had approached him with his strange pledge. He had explained to him how it would damage the reputation of his niece when she had to decline the marriage to this important and wealthy nobleman.

The thin man, with his treacherous smile, had looked him straight in the eyes and asked him to kill her fiancé shortly after their marriage, when he would have been technically her husband, and had proposed that, in return, he would help him with another murder.

 _"_ _You will see that this is a perfect plan. The perfect crime. No one will make the link between us or you."_ Don Fernando had told him confidently.

Richelieu had needed time to think, but after two days he had figured out that this plan was the opportunity to finally get rid of this annoying Musketeer Aramis. They discussed further details and Richelieu hoped that with his plan he would get rid of two problems at once. Certainly Captain Tréville would mourn the loss of this very advanced and capable Musketeer but he was one out of many and it was his only chance to make the threat which came from this man disappear. So, he agreed but asked that the Musketeer must be the first victim. He gave Don Fernando specific instructions and tried to figure out how he could trick the Musketeers so that his victim would ride towards the château.

He couldn't have known that the men Don Fernando had hired would fail in their task. They would attack the wrong man, who would survive, though severely injured. The first so compelling failure of this plan had made Tréville and his men suspicious. Instead of leaving the château immediately, Don Fernando had made a major error by reappearing in Paris. For the Cardinal this was the point of no return. He knew that their deal was off and to save himself from further investigation he had to order the murder of Don Fernando.

Cardinal Richelieu was not stupid, but his own conviction that he was almost omnipotent had made him sloppy and would finally lead to his downfall. He had missed the chance of killing this Musketeer and a further attempt on his life would endanger his own power. His hands were tied against taking any further steps in the near future against Aramis. He knew that Tréville was already investigating and the Captain of the Musketeers would not stop asking questions until he would find out who had been behind the attack on his Lieutenant. Little did Richelieu know that by agreeing to Don Fernando's treacherous plan, he had initiated something that would have greater consequences not only for him, but for the whole of France ...

 ** _To be continued ..._**


	48. Chapter 48

**_Thank you for reading and leaving a review to ch 47!_**

* * *

 ** _To_** ** _Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Excellent chapter. Answered lots of questions. Still some loose threads to tie up though._** ** _Looking forward to the next chapter."_**

 ** _Thank you Barbara. Some more questions might be answered in the next chapter xx Kira._**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I, as Athos believes, think too that Richelieu wanted Aramis dead, so rumors if any would stop about the Musketeer and the queen. Especially Adele's cheating on the cardinal was not something Richelieu would easily forgive. Hence he had her killed. Still though if Queen Anne found out the cardinal had truely killed Aramis, or even Athos by mistake, I believe she would then tell Louis that the cardinal tried to have her murdered, no matter how much Louis trusts Richelieu. Treville and the inseparables would back her up on that. Even Milady I think. But of course Athos can't tell the captain that. He's making the officer believe it's because of Aramis' affair with Adele. At least this is what I'm getting from what I've read."_**

 ** _Thank you Debbie, not only for your long review but telling me about the technical issues. FFnet is acting up lately with different problems. It sometimes needs some time to fix everything properly._**

 ** _Your conclusion is summarizing my plot pretty well. I agree with you the Queen would have no problem to go to the King, but she knows that her husband needs Richelieu. And Athos cannot tell Tréville, because he gave Aramis his word. So … what will they do next? xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Enjoy ch 48_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 48**

"Captain, you are cushioning something? What is it that you didn't want to tell me and why?"

Aramis wondered aloud, staring curiously at Tréville, who was sitting in front of his desk - his eyes directed on some papers in front of him, avoiding any eye contact with his medic, while the latter walked back and forth in front of the wooden table. His right hand drove several times carding through his thick brown hair as he tried to gather all the facts together.

Several minutes earlier, he had been called to his Captain's office. He had left the infirmary reluctantly, and only then when Athos had told him to go.

 **XXXXX**

 _"_ _You heard Lemay! I am much better. He is confident that my arm will heal properly. You can leave me alone for a while."_

Athos had yawned and Aramis could see the obvious signs that his brother would soon fall asleep.

 _"_ _It's just … Porthos and d'Artagnan left for palace guard and …"_

Aramis had tried to reason with him - if Richelieu really wanted to see Athos dead, he would still need protection and the marksman wasn't sure that leaving his brother alone would be such a good idea.

 _"_ _Aramis, go! Follow the Captain's orders! Now!"_ Athos had ordered him. _"_ _Henri and Fabien are in front of the door. I am safe!"_ he had added in a low voice.

Another yawn escaped Athos' mouth and his eyes started to droop. Aramis had slowly nodded, then he had carefully removed one of his pistols from his weapon's belt and put it on the chair, next to Athos' head.

 _"_ _It's loaded, just in case …"_ he had mumbled, only to realise that Athos had already fallen asleep and was breathing evenly.

 **XXXXX**

"The Cardinal wouldn't do such a thing … not because of Athos' encounter with him several days ago … otherwise he would have ordered us all to be killed, including the Queen." Aramis shook his head. "Athos must be mistaken … or there is something more to it and he only told you, Captain …" Aramis stopped directly in front of Tréville.

The Captain looked up from his papers. His tired eyes locked with Aramis for several seconds.

"It's all I have for now. The Cardinal ordered the attack …"

Tréville cautiously repeated what Athos had asked him to do, but he hated the fact that he had to lie.

 _Now I am telling him for the second time that Athos believes that Richelieu ordered the assault on him. I'm glad that I've sent Porthos and d'Artagnan to the palace. Of course, they had their questions too, but it was enough for them to simply get the order to watch the Cardinal until further notice._

"Anyway, I asked Porthos and d'Artagnan to keep an eye on Richelieu. That's why I sent them this morning to do palace guard. Your task for the next weeks will be to stay close to Athos, help him to exercise his arm properly. In the meantime, I will think of a plan what we can do to combat Richelieu." Tréville summarised while standing up. "I need to go to the palace. I will have to report what I can reveal about Dona Ynes- Mancía. She's spent the night in a cell and the Queen is demanding answers from me." he wanted to excuse himself.

 _What is Tréville not saying? Why does he avoid looking into my eyes? He's holding something back … but what and why …? The only reason he would hold something back would be … wait … Athos … Tréville said earlier that he talked to him yesterday evening. Has Athos asked him not to share something with us? … but why?_

 _Who was Tréville's informant and why wouldn't he give us a name? Usually he gives us the names of informants in case something happens to him … why not this time?_

Aramis felt his head begin to throb. The closer he observed his Captain over the last few minutes, the more he was convinced that Tréville was holding something back. He had always been a bad liar.

"Your informant!" Aramis exclaimed. "Your informant has told you more than you have revealed to us. Is it that?"

Aramis stepped in his Captain's way, preventing him from leaving.

"Aramis! I really need to go!" Tréville tried again, his voice becoming louder and angrier.

 _I should have known that Aramis would stand firm over this issue. As long as he hasn't all the facts he will continue to ask questions. Athos, what have you asked of me …?_

"What did he tell you? Or wait was it a he …? The letter Athos should deliver was brought back by a woman ..."

Aramis tried to gather his thoughts. He knew he was groping in the dark, but when he mentioned the fact that a woman might be an informant, Tréville flinched for a second. Others might have not noticed it, but Aramis had learned to read his Captain over the years.

"Aramis - not now!"

Tréville tried to pass by his medic, but Aramis simply followed each of Tréville's move, blocking the way his path so that he couldn't leave.

He expected an angry outburst to come the very next second. Usually, if his Captain was delayed he would become furious. They all feared his wrath from time to time, which always led to "extra duties" usually mucking out the stables, but this time Aramis didn't care and, to his surprise, Tréville didn't start shouting at him.

"Who is your informant?" Aramis repeated, curiously.

"Aramis, I …" Tréville searched for words, he drew his hand over his face absentmindedly - an obvious sign to Aramis that he was hiding something.

 _This is getting ridiculous! No Aramis, I will not reveal to you that Milady is my informant. It is bad enough that Athos figured it out. Best is that she finally disappears from his life. If I tell Aramis he will confront Athos …_

 _Anyway, Aramis and the others are not stupid … they won't stop asking questions until they know what is really going on and my explanation earlier wasn't enough to distract him. I am not good at this … Why did I give Athos my word?_

"Does Athos know who the informant is?" Aramis guessed seeing that his Captain was deep in thought.

"Aramis, let's talk about it later- with all of you." Tréville tried to reason with his medic. "For now Athos is on the mend. You will be there to help him through the next weeks. You will be released from palace duty during this time to do so. That's all that matters for now." Tréville placed his hand on Aramis' shoulder and squeezed it gently.

He had wondered if he would still be angry with Aramis when he saw him in the morning, but after a good night's sleep, his anger had faded. Athos had been right, it wasn't Aramis' fault that Athos had been injured, but Richelieu's.

Aramis bent his head, then slowly moved to the side to let Tréville pass and leave his office.

 _The Captain is right. We cannot do anything against the Cardinal for now. The Queen has forgiven him. She knows that the King needs his advice and we have to follow her wishes._ _This is what he let us all know during morning muster. The informant, or witness Tréville has met, is not ready to testify against Richelieu. So our hands are tied. What I still don't understand is … how did Richelieu know that Athos would be the Musketeer who would deliver the letter? Gauthier told us that he paled after he heard that Athos had been injured …_ _as if he never wanted to … wait … Athos was never ..._

"Wait, Captain … Athos was never the target, was he?" Aramis exclaimed suddenly and Tréville stopped at the threshold. "You asked us yesterday if we were certain that Athos had been the target …" Aramis continued. "You had your doubts … we had our doubts. What has changed, Captain?"

"Aramis, later?" Tréville said, a little unnerved, but his medic ignored him:

"But if Athos wasn't the target who else did the Cardinal want to see dead?" the medic wondered aloud.

"There are many people Richelieu wants to see dead." Tréville snorted. "Aramis, the Queen is expecting me. I have no problem letting Dona Ynes-Mancía rot in that prison cell, but letting the Queen wait is another matter. It's my duty to be there on time. We will discuss it later. Take good care of Athos." Tréville advised him in a fatherly tone.

Aramis was confused, perhaps it was the way Tréville spoke to him, treated him- but usually he was loud and angry when he wanted to go somewhere and was delayed-, but not this time.

 _He cannot say … he is holding something back. If Athos was never the target, who else …?_ A sudden thought crossed his mind.

"Athos was never the target, but I was!" Aramis gasped and turned pale. He retreated backwards and collapsed tiredly on a chair. "Please tell me that I am not correct …" Aramis groaned, holding his aching head in both of his hands.

"Aramis?"

Tréville walked back from the door's entrance into the room to his desk and stepped in front of his soldier, leaning his lower back on the table.

"Why? Why didn't you tell me? Aramis groaned, his voice sounded painful, his eyes filled with a sudden sadness, when he finally realised that Athos had been a victim of mistaken identity.

"I … Athos … he has asked me not to tell you …" Tréville said slowly, while he tried to gather his thoughts. There was no reason to lie to his soldier anymore. He cleared his throat: "Athos asked me not to tell you, to go along with the story that Richelieu ordered him to be murdered. We figured it out last evening and he implored me to tell you himself." Tréville sighed, while leaning against his desk, putting his hat on the desk.

"But why would he …?" Aramis paused, looking up and trying to blink his tears away.

For a moment an awkward silence settled between the two Musketeers.

"I gave Athos my word." Tréville explained calmly. "You should go and ask him." he advised gently.

"He's sleeping and he needs his rest. I'd better leave him alone for a while. It seems that I'm the reason why he was nearly killed. My presence only will upset him and I …"

"Would you stop that Aramis." Tréville rebuked him. "This is the reason why Athos asked me to tell you himself. I can assure you he doesn't blame you for anything. It was Don Fernando's, Juan's and Richelieu's doing, which led to him being injured, and not your doing." Tréville tried to calm Aramis.

"You can say that so easily? What if you are wrong? I have a suspicion why the Cardinal ordered to kill me, but I am not sure if I am right, Captain."

Aramis answered reproachfully. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his feelings.

 _Why would the Cardinal want to see me dead? What have I done to him? Does he know about me and … no no no … Wait … what if he found out about my … I haven't seen her since that day when I had to flee out of her window._

"Adele … He must have found out. That's why he sent her away to one of his estates" he whispered, his face turning the colour of white linen. "This can't be true …" he whispered ashamed.

Tréville didn't react to Aramis' statement, which indicated to the medic that he was right. The Captain of the Musketeers remained silent again, giving Aramis some needed time to cope with what he just had found out. Several minutes passed. Aramis felt hot and cold at the same time.

 _I am responsible for this … it's my doing … but the Cardinal failed … I am still alive … He won't give up until he gets his revenge. And who will suffer the next time …? Athos was hurt because of me. I cannot ignore this fact … I need to talk to him … no … I need to go away from him … far far away … maybe in an abbey … Otherwise I will only endanger all of my brothers, Tréville, other comrades … I need to leave as soon as possible. I am not worthy to be a Musketeer any longer. Oh my God … What did I do? …_

Aramis swallowed hard. He ran his hand through his hair several times. Finally he cleared his throat:

"If the Cardinal wants to see me dead, it's better if I resign my commission and leave, otherwise I will only endanger my friends, you, the regiment."

Aramis sadly said while he started to fumble with his pauldron, trying to remove it from his upper arm.

"Stop it, Aramis!" Tréville said in a very loud voice.

"Why don't you judge me? Why aren't you angry with me? Why aren't you shouting at me and telling me to resign my commission?" Aramis asked confused. "Because of me you nearly lost your Lieutenant … Athos ..." he gulped hard and another tear ran down over his cheek.

"Because of you he is still alive." Tréville sighed, gently laying his hand on Aramis' shoulder again. "You know what: Athos knows you very well. He predicted this … he said that you would want to leave if you found out and this is what he wanted to prevent. He told me that he needs you as a friend, a comrade and a medic - and I agree with him." Tréville searched his medic's eyes. "He is not ready to let you go and neither am I. You might have made a major error which endangered your own life and those of your fellow comrades, but you are more than this one mistake, Aramis. You are my best marksman, an experienced medic, one of my best soldiers and most of all a good brother. We … _I_ need you."

Tréville stated in a firm voice, searching Aramis' brown, glistening eyes and sharing a warm smile with his glum soldier.

Aramis swallowed hard.

"I cannot stay …" he whispered, when he had finally managed to remove his pauldron.

"Aramis, I never judged you a coward." Tréville stood up, ignoring the fact that Aramis was trying to give him his pauldron.

"I'm not." the medic answered defiantly, ready to fight for his dignity at least.

"You are, if you leave now." Tréville stated angrily.

"If this is how you see me …" Aramis mumbled. "Then it's best that I leave …" Aramis slowly stood up. Tossing his pauldron on the desk, he turned his head away from the Captain.

"I don't see you like this, Aramis." Tréville shook sadly his head. "What do you think you will achieve by leaving …? Athos needs you now more than ever so that he will recover properly. He will worry about you … and not only him. What about Porthos and d'Artagnan?"

"They will understand." Aramis answered reluctantly. "It's for the best …"

"I doubt that it is for the best … not for Athos' best, not for yours … He will blame himself for not having enough energy to hold you back. This will happen." Tréville warned him.

"Athos, will understand. He will see that this is the only way to protect my friends from further harm."

"I disagree with you, Aramis. Athos will need your help." Tréville shouted angrily, wondering how he could get through to his stubborn medic, understanding exactly why Aramis suddenly became so defensive and wanted to flee. He blamed himself and he was about to punish himself.

"Doctor Lemay can help him. He is an experienced doctor." Aramis mumbled, looking down at the wooden floor.

"He won't have the time to practise with him every day. He is the palace doctor." Tréville explained.

"Porthos and d'Artagnan will help him."

"Of course they will, but Athos has asked for your help." Tréville quietly answered. "I simply cannot picture you letting your friend and brother down in his hour of need." he added.

The awkward silence settled between the two soldiers again.

"Aramis, stay and help Athos to pull through this. He needs you." Tréville emphasised, after several minutes. Aramis only nodded, while tears ran over his face, which he angrily wiped away with his shirtsleeve.

"Richelieu will try again." Aramis mumbled.

"I will not allow this to happen a second time." Tréville shouted.

"How?" Aramis asked.

"Let that be my concern!" Tréville said sharply, then he put Aramis' pauldron in his hands, looked at the brown leather which bore the scars of several battles, for a second and pressed it into Aramis' hand.

"Why are you not angry with me?" Aramis asked suddenly, confused, feeling the weight of the pauldron still in his hand.

"Oh, believe me, I was. When I heard about it yesterday I wanted to wake you, to punish you, but …" Tréville admitted honestly, relieved that he didn't need to lie anymore.

"Athos." Aramis mumbled.

"Yes, our dear Comte convinced me not to do it." Tréville explained calmly.

"Punish me, now." Aramis begged him. "I don't deserve your gratitude."

"Oh, believe me, I already have." Tréville smiled at his disheartened medic.

"How? What did I miss?" Aramis blinked some tears away.

"I doubt that it will be an easy task to care for Athos during the next few weeks, to help him with his arm. I noticed the signs … he is getting better and he will be back to his emotionless, grumpy self very soon. There will be times where he will be frustrated, where he will have doubts if he will ever be able to be a swordsman, where he will prefer a glass of wine much more than our presence. I don't have to tell you that Athos still has a long rocky road before him, Aramis. We both know that it will eat at him and he won't always be easy to deal with."

"Athos isn't an easy patient …" Aramis nodded understandingly.

"That's why he counts on your help as a brother and friend, Aramis." Tréville said gently.

Aramis slowly stood up, his pauldron still in his hand. He felt his legs shaking slightly.

"Where are you going?" Tréville frowned.

"My patient needs me." Aramis quietly answered. "Captain, I'm sorry …" he added.

"I know you are." Tréville interrupted him. "Go and talk to Athos. Don't worry about Richelieu we will find a way to protect you." Tréville added calmly. He squeezed Aramis' shoulder tightly for the last time.

"I will, Captain!" Aramis said in a firm voice.

"What are you waiting for then?" Tréville's fatherly smile and the warm gaze touched Aramis. The marksman nodded gratefully and rushed to the door, hoping that Athos would still be asleep so that he had some time to sort his thoughts.

Captain Tréville breathed a sigh of relief when Aramis finally left his office.

 _Athos was right … Aramis had been about to leave. Good grief Athos wouldn't have taken that fact well and not only him. Porthos would have blamed me … and d'Artagnan … d'Artagnan would have started a search for him._ Tréville shook his head. _I am glad that Aramis knows now. He will blame himself for some time. I know him. Anyway we all need to stop being so secretive. What can I do against Richelieu …? I need a plan to protect my men …_

 **XXXXX**

"Do you really think Tréville is right?" d'Artagnan asked Porthos.

They had both arrived at the palace earlier and were now standing guard outside. Several feet away from them, Richelieu and King Louis were sitting at a table and looking over a map of Paris, which was laid out in front of them.

"About what?" Porthos asked, his eyes watchful, ready to intervene in the event someone tried to attack the King. Two peacocks were crying their cat noises in the distance.

"That the Cardinal wanted to see Athos dead because he threatened him?"

"Oh that … nah … there's something else going on. He wanted to talk to Athos in private and he did. In my opinion, Athos asked him to hold something back."

"Why?" d'Artagnan whispered back, when two ladies-in-waiting passed them.

"Because he is Athos, that's why." Porthos laughed out loud. "I have given up trying to understand Athos' motives sometimes. Usually he knows what he is doing or asking for. Trust me he knows more and, when he is ready, he will tell us. Tréville asked us if we had doubts about Athos being the real target. For me this is evidence enough that Athos was a victim of mistaken identity. Even if Tréville told us differently this morning." Porthos shrugged.

"Are you sure?" d'Artagnan looked wide-eyed at Porthos, astonished.

"Yeah. I know Athos … something is up ..." Porthos mumbled.

"And what if Richelieu intended to kill Athos …"

"The only reason I can see him doing that is to hurt the Captain." Porthos answered quietly and thoughtfully.

"Maybe it didn't matter at all who would deliver the letter. Maybe he simply wanted to kill one Musketeer to warn Tréville." d'Artagnan concluded.

"You do know that this sounds way too complicated." Porthos yawned.

"So what do we do?" d'Artagnan waited for Porthos to answer him.

"What the Captain has ordered us to. We are observing the Cardinal. We are following him and we are waiting for the right moment to strike."

"To strike?" d'Artagnan wondered aloud.

"I don't know why Athos was injured, but the Cardinal was behind everything and I doubt that Tréville will let Richelieu do as he likes this time. He has crossed one line too many and this time our Captain won't back down." Porthos said confidently.

"So, we observe him, follow him and punish him." d'Artagnan summarised.

"The first two things yes. I have a hunch that Tréville will be the one who is going to punish him, but I won't say no if I get the chance to punch him on his nose." Porthos whispered back.

The Cardinal looked up from the map. Seeing d'Artagnan and Porthos whispering quietly in the distance didn't sit well with him.

"Musketeers!" he shouted loudly and both walked over.

"What can we do for you, your Eminence?" d'Artagnan cleared his throat and smiled at him.

"I wondered if you have any news on Athos?" Richelieu asked them.

"You are so thoughtful, Cardinal." King Louis exclaimed next to him. "How is your Lieutenant?"

"He's on the mend, Sire." Porthos explained, bowing his head respectfully.

"This is good news. I will let the Queen know. She was very worried these past few days." he looked up, curiously.

"Have you found out who was behind the attack?" Richelieu asked.

"Our investigation came to the conclusion that Athos had overheard a discussion between Don Fernando and his mercenaries arranging the murder of an Italian nobleman." d'Artagnan explained, giving the King the explanation Tréville had told them that morning in his office after morning muster.

 _"_ _Do you think he will believe this?"_ Porthos had asked.

 _"_ _We stick to the half- truth. Dona Ynes-Mancía wanted to see her fiancé dead. I will explain it, in this manner, to the Queen later today. So, if the King should ask you, you can tell him that too."_

 _"_ _What if Dona Ynes-Mancía tells another story." d_ 'Artagnan asked curiously.

 _"_ _She won't be a very reliable witness and if I have to guess, the Cardinal will be happy to confirm the result of our investigation as plausible."_ Tréville had added with an earnest grin.

"I assume they wanted to get rid of any witnesses." the Cardinal added.

"Yes, Athos was in the wrong place, at the wrong time." Porthos nodded.

"And why have you arrested Dona Ynes-Mancía?" King Louis wanted to know. "My wife asked me earlier."

"She was the mastermind behind this plan, your Majesty." d'Artagnan explained politely.

"Really? Why?" King Louis asked curiously.

"She was in love with a Spanish soldier, Juan. He was working for Don Fernando. They thought if her Italian finacé was to be killed shortly after their wedding, she would be able to keep his wealth and his title."

"How evil!" King Louis shook his head. "Oh, now I understand why my wife isn't really fond of her cousin." he laughed out loud.

"I am glad that you figured out who attacked Athos." Richelieu said quietly. For a moment he observed, first Porthos and then d'Artagnan's facial expressions, wondering if the two Musketeers were lying.

 _Do they know or suspect that I ordered the assault? They were whispering earlier. The explanation they gave to the King sounds plausible. No reason to argue against it or ask any further questions. Maybe it would be wise to ask for a written report from Tréville, about what he found out regarding the results of his investigation. That a Spanish noblewoman, related to the King of Spain, is being held as a prisoner right now won't please Spain._

"I'm sure Captain Tréville has already filed a written report?" Richelieu asked.

"That's the reason why he hasn't arrived yet." Porthos explained. "He wanted to write all the facts down regarding the involvement of Don Fernando and his niece Dona Ynes-Mancía. Queen Anne has asked to see him. I am sure he will bring the report to you later." Porthos gave Richelieu the answer he wanted to hear.

 _"Tréville guessed correctly. He knew that Richelieu would ask for a written report."_ he thought.

"Very well."

The Cardinal ended the discussion, then he nodded to Porthos and excused himself. The King followed him back to the palace, where other Musketeers stood guard. Porthos and d'Artagnan were dismissed.

"What do we do now?" d'Artagnan asked.

"We follow the Cardinal." Porthos grinned. "But from a distance. We will tell our comrades where Tréville can find him after he has had his meeting with Queen Anne.

 ** _To be continued …_**

* * *

 ** _Many thanks to my lovely beta Tricia who proofread this chapter! All remaining mistakes are my own not hers!_**

 ** _Next chapter will be posted after Easter._**

 ** _xx Kira_**


	49. Chapter 49

**_Hey there,_**

 ** _I wish you a wonderful, blessed and happy Easter time. For me –as a Catholic- we are celebrating Easter the whole week after Easter, actually we do it until Pentecost._**

 ** _I hope you had some fab days with your friends and family._**

 ** _This year I had the chance to celebrate Easter in an Abbey in Switzerland and it was really festive and lovely._**

 ** _I want to thank you for your reviews and thank you so much for reading and following this story._**

 ** _A special and warm thank you goes out to Tricia for beta-ing and finding better expressions in English. Next time I will consider that my email with the text ends up in your junk email. Lol ;-)_**

 ** _I am nearing the end of this story and I am struggling with the fact if it will have 51 or 52 chapters. I need to figure out how long the talk between d'Artagnan and Athos will be and if a certain person will talk to Athos or if Tréville will stop that attempt …_**

 ** _I hope to finish the last part over the weekend._**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _All coming together nicely. Felt sorry for Aramis but really, he's been an idiot! Looking forward to the next chapter."_**

 ** _Thank you Barbara for your review. Well, what I love about our Musketeers that they have their flaws and are not perfect superhumans. It makes them very sympatic. I always loved the relationship / friendship between Aramis and Athos and when I started this story I always knew that it would deal with the aftermaths of what had happened at the Convent. How they are both struggling with the fact that they cannot tell the truth, because it is too dangerous! More of it in this chapter. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Aramis was like a dog with a bone, not letting Treville go until the officer told him what Aramis wanted to know. Finally, the shoe dropped on the marksman's head and he realized it was his death Richelieu had ordered. I enjoyed how the captain talked Aramis out of leaving the regiment. Now we have d'Art and Porthos going to trail after the cardinal. This should be interesting.  
If you celebrate the holy season, have a blessed Easter Kira!"_**

 ** _Thank you so much Debbie,_**

 ** _Oh I like you picture of the dog and the bone. Lol. I wish I could use more of these pictures, but sometimes I am not sure if they are the same in English like they would be in German ;-)_**

 ** _Lol the shoe hit Aramis pretty hard. Glad you liked my talk between Tréville and Aramis, in this chapter Aramis and Athos will talk …hmm and a certain Captain will go suicidal …_**

 ** _Happy Easter to you too xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Here is chapter 49!_**

 ** _Enjoy_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 49**

It didn't take Treville long to inform the Queen about Dona Ynes-Mancía's dreadful and treacherous deed. She had listened to him very attentively and when he had ended his report she had explained to him why they couldn't imprison her in France.

Nevertheless, she had promised Tréville that she would talk to the Spanish ambassador, informing her brother - King Philip of Spain - by letter about Dona Ynes-Mancía's deeds and ask him to punish her for her crimes.

As Tréville had already predicted would happen, the cunning woman would be sent back to Spain the following day. As he was about to excuse himself, Queen Anne had asked him about the well-being of Athos. Hearing that he was on the mend, a warm smile had crossed her face and she had wished his Lieutenant a speedy recovery. Then she dismissed him.

Captain Tréville left the Queen's quarters walking quickly. His steps were echoing over the marvel floor, but he didn't notice the sound. He was looking for d'Artagnan and Porthos. He knew that they had to be somewhere in the palace. He needed their help for his next move. He had thought long and hard about it, lying awake most of the previous night, but he had finally come to the conclusion that he would confront Richelieu with what he had done and inform him that he knew everything.

Enough was enough. He had promised Aramis that he would ensure that he would no longer be a target. Too often Tréville had stepped back, had turned a blind eye to Richelieu's evil plans, but not this time. He needed to act or he would lose esteem among his men. Of course they still would follow his orders, but he couldn't ignore what Richelieu had wanted to do and what he actually had done. After several minutes of searching and asking several servants, he found Porthos and d'Artagnan in a small courtyard, where they had been waiting for him.

"Where is he?" Tréville asked shortly, after greeting them with a nod.

"In his office." Porthos answered without asking who Tréville was referring to. It was obvious to him.

"Come with me." Tréville ordered and rushed towards Richelieu's quarters. Porthos and d'Artagnan struggled to keep up with his fast pace over the slippery stone floors of the palace. They both could tell that Tréville was not only furious, but ready to take action and they didn't know if it was wise not to stop him.

Several minutes later they reached the door to the Cardinal's office. It was made out of dark-brown, strong wood. Without hesitating, Tréville knocked on the wood. Not waiting for an invitation, he entered, while ordering Porthos and d'Artagnan to wait outside and guard the door so no one could disturb them.

 **XXXXX**

Disturbed by the loud knock at his door, Richelieu looked up curiously, as Tréville entered his office.

"Captain Tréville, did I miss an appointment?" the Cardinal asked surprised.

"You wanted a report." Tréville played along.

"A report … regarding what?" Richelieu asked, standing up from his desk, but not walking towards Tréville. The seasoned officer crossed the room instead, tossing his hat angrily on Richelieu's desk. The churchman raised his eyebrows, but did not comment on Tréville's obviously furious state.

"The assault on my Lieutenant!" Tréville searched Richelieu's face for any signs of remorse, but the Cardinal kept his cards close to his chest.

"I've completely forgotten to ask you. How is Athos? I hope he will recover."

Richelieu said calmly and, if Tréville didn't know that the Cardinal had arranged the whole set-up, he would have believed the caring tone of Richelieu's voice. He had no doubts that Richelieu hadn't intended that Athos would be the one who got injured.

"I guess we can skip this." Tréville answered angrily.

Richelieu, somewhat astonished at Tréville's reaction took several steps away from his desk backing up towards the wall.

"Why so hostile, Captain?" Richelieu tried to calm the seasoned soldier, suddenly uneasy.

 _Does he know? Of course he suspects something. But he will never guess that Aramis was the real target. He cannot prove that I ordered the attack on his Musketeer. All witnesses are dead, all traces which might have led to me are extinguished._

"First Savoy, then the attack on our Queen and now Athos!"

Tréville shouted. The colour of his face changed from slightly pale towards red.

"When will you have enough innocent victims of your evil doing?" he roared.

"I am not sure if I follow you?" Richelieu raised his hands to appease the Captain of the Musketeers, but the latter ignored his gesture.

"Oh, I am certain that you follow me! Because of you, I nearly lost my Lieutenant. But this will stop here and now. It's over!" Tréville shouted.

The Cardinal took another step backwards, almost touching the wall behind him.

"Careful, Captain! I have no idea what you are talking about, but the way you are speaking to me could easily be interpreted as treason towards the First Minister of France." Richelieu warned the Captain of the Musketeers. "I didn't give any order to harm your Lieutenant, even if he can be a nuisance sometimes - as all your men can, including you." Richelieu justified himself, laughing nervously.

"I know that you ordered the attack on Aramis' life not on Athos', but he was the one who got hurt." Tréville shouted and Richelieu flinched.

"Again, Captain. I am sorry that Athos was injured, but I am not sure what you are talking ab…"

"Stop lying to me." Tréville said in a cold but calm voice. He was now standing directly in front of Richelieu and their noses nearly touching.

"I strongly advise you to leave now. Listen I will forget about your accusations and …"

Richelieu stammered, obviously uncomfortable with the position he now found himself in. The Cardinal tried again. He glanced towards his door, hoping to see a Red Guard outside. When he thought he saw a man standing in the half-opened door of his office he shouted:

"Help …"

He was stopped by an angry Tréville who pushed him towards the wall and then pressed his elbow against the Cardinal's throat, pressing hard and not letting go. Richelieu tried to breathe and gasped for air, but the trained soldier pressed tighter and tighter.

"Stop shouting for help! There is no one out there, who will help you! None of your Red Guards will come and rescue you! I made sure that we are alone!"

Tréville hissed, noticing Richelieu's face turning slightly purple. The churchman struggled and tried to remove the soldier's arm from his throat, but the Captain of the Musketeers was stronger and easily prevented the Cardinal's attempts to slap him, using his free hand.

Outside Richelieu's office, Porthos commented in a somber tone.

"I wish Athos and Aramis could see this."

"What?" D'Artagnan asked curiously. He was guarding the corridor, while Porthos observed the two men inside the room.

"See for yourself." Porthos grinned and moved away from the gap in the door. When Tréville had entered minutes earlier he had slammed the door with such force that it didn't latch properly but swung open a little. D'Artagnan looked through the small gap.

"If he continues like this he will kill him. Shall we intervene?"

D'Artagnan asked curiously. He had never imagined in his wildest dreams that he would see his Captain pinning the Cardinal against a wall.

"Nah … I think the Captain knows exactly what he's doing. Besides if the Cardinal accidently dies, France will be a safer and a better place." Porthos mocked.

Inside, Tréville loosened his arm a little and Richelieu gasped for air and coughed heavily.

"This will stop today. If you go after Aramis ever again, or one of my men, you will pay for it!" Tréville spoke in the cold tone of a commanding officer who knows that he has the upper hand.

Richelieu gulped, but didn't say a word.

"We both know that you kept your position, because the Queen forgave you for the greater good of France and her husband. But one further wrong move and I'll make sure that you will lose your power, your influence and your position." Tréville thundered.

"Captain, I don't know what you think …" Richelieu whispered his throat sore from the pressure that had been exerted on it.

"Stop this charade and don't insult my intelligence. I have enough evidence." Tréville whispered dangerously. He resembled a rumbling vulcano shortly before an eruption.

"You sound like your Lieutenant … only an empty threat … nothing more."

Richelieu still struggled for air and Tréville finally put his arm down. With a cold glare he addressed the Cardinal:

"Athos never makes an empty threat." Tréville locked eyes with the Cardinal.

"Has your preferred soldier told you?" Richelieu asked dangerously, his voice still low.

"What? That you had forgotten about a training session between my men and your Red Guards? Of course he told me." Tréville stated matter of factly.

"You will pay for this, Captain. You cannot come into my office like this and attack me. Your career will be over before sunset and your regiment of useless Musketeers will be disbanded." Richelieu wheezed.

"If anything happens to my men or me, the evidence will not only be delivered to the King but to Mazarin* as well. He is planning to usurp you. I have no doubt that he will use the evidence to get rid of you." Tréville stated firmly.

"You wouldn't dare do that." Richelieu whispered, his throat still hurting him and he grew slightly paler.

"You know me, Cardinal." Tréville took several steps away from him. "I think my report, as you requested it, was sufficient, Cardinal. Don't you think so?" he said in a more neutral tone, but his blue eyes were still gleaming coldly.

"I understand." Richelieu whispered, still having difficulty catching his breath.

Tréville reached for his hat and walked back to the door he had entered several minutes ago. Richelieu, finally getting his voice back, walked back to his chair, but didn't sit down, instead he pointed angrily with his finger at Tréville's back and shouted:

"You are a fool, Tréville!"

The Captain of the Musketeers whirled round angrily at the threshold of the door, but he didn't say a word. In a rage now, the Cardinal continued:

"You might think it is your duty to protect your men." The Cardinal shouted in a high pitched voice.

"My men serve the King and France with dignity, honour and risk their lives each day." Tréville calmly answered.

"He will be your downfall one day! I warn you!" Richelieu snarled. "When you realise that, it will be too late for you. Watch your back, Captain!" Richelieu warned the Captain of the Musketeers.

Tréville breathed in deeply - calming his own nerves, knowing if Richelieu continued in this manner he would be tempted to kill him.

"You should be grateful that I didn't report you yet. I am sure the Queen will listen to me! Watch out Cardinal, one wrong move and you will lose everything."

Tréville said in a cold tone, then he left slamming the door loudly behind him and nearly crashing into Porthos and d'Artagnan.

 **XXXXX**

It was about midday when Athos showed signs of waking. For the past few hours Aramis had watched over his sleeping friend. At first, he had sat stock still on the chair next to him, ignoring his aching head and deep in thought. Later, he had started to pace impatiently through the room. Opening cupboards, checking the interiors, making lists in his head of what was missing.

Distracted he started to form a plan, as to how he would address Athos when the swordsman finally woke up.

For a moment he had weighed up his options. Whether to pack his things, to put his leather pauldron on Tréville's desk, to take his horse and return to the village he had left years ago to come to Paris in order to leave his past behind and to become a soldier, without saying goodbye to the man who was lying so helpless in front of him, without explaining to him why he was leaving. Of course he could write a letter, a message, a note, an explanation, but ink and paper were nowhere to be seen in the infirmary.

 _I cannot leave. Athos needs me, and not only him. If I vanish without saying goodbye to Athos, to Porthos, to d'Artagnan … even the Captain... Tréville is right it would be a cowardly thing to do. I'm not that kind of person. I own up to my mistakes._

He then started to argue with himself about when and how he should address Athos. Should he pretend that he didn't know that Richelieu had wanted to see him dead so that Athos would have a chance to clear the air with him, when he was ready to tell him. That way he wouldn't reveal that Tréville had broken his promise he had given to Athos. But he knew he wouldn't be able to wait that long for Athos to instigate the conversation. The swordsman would need, and ask for his medical help in the next days and he knew that he wouldn't be able to be around him with this immense guilt. He needed to apologise, not to evade the topic.

 _I would accept Athos' wishes and demands. But no. I cannot lie to him. He knows me too well. He will read my face and he will notice that something is wrong._

 _Oh God, Athos … what did I do …? Why is my life always so complicated?_

Finally he made up his mind that he would talk to Athos, if his friend was up to it. He would approach him carefully. He thought of several possibilities though of how he could start and he set himself several conditions, including apologising, asking if he should leave and telling Porthos and d'Artagnan that he had been the real target.

When Athos started to blink Aramis didn't feel panic, but relief. Carefully he put his hand on his friend's right shoulder:

"It's about time for you to wake up." he said in a low voice, clearing his throat several times.

"Thought you would tell me to rest." Athos answered him drily.

"How are you?" Aramis whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

Athos turned his head towards his friend. Even still half- asleep, he noticed tear tracks on the medic's pale face. Seeing his brother in this agitated state made him frown.

"What has happened to you?" Athos asked confused, thinking feverishly what he might have missed.

Exhausted, Aramis drew his hand through his hair and then over his face.

"I'm so sorry Athos. I …" the marksman paused searching for the right words, while fighting to hold back back more unshed tears.

Athos struggled with his sheets, finally managing to raise his upper body and sit more upright in the bed, ignoring his still aching body, when realization finally hit him:

 _Aramis knows … How? When did he find out? Does he know everything or only …_

"Tréville!" Athos stated matter of factly, his voice was calm, no sign of judgement, no sign of anger, but full of compassion.

Aramis gulped and looked into his friend's green eyes.

"He didn't want to tell me, but his explanation didn't fit, something was amiss and I couldn't stop asking …" he quietly explained.

"The Captain was never a good liar." Athos stated calmly. "Can you reach me the water, please? I am thirsty."

Athos asked. The discomposed medic nodded. Standing up, he prepared his brother a cup of fresh water and gave it to him. Athos took some careful sips.

"If you want me to leave I will understand …" Aramis offered, his voice still trembling.

"Why should I want that?" Athos gave him the empty cup back and looked at his friend, who had lowered his head.

"Because of me, you …" Aramis mumbled. "I can never make up for this …" he sobbed, unable to hold his tears back any longer.

"You've already made up for this more than once, Aramis." Athos carefully moved his still throbbing right arm and put his palm on his brother's forearm squeezing it gently - but it didn't register that Athos had moved it. "You saved me - more than once." the swordsman whispered.

"How can you say that?" Aramis suddenly shouted and jumped to his feet. Turning away from Athos, he started to walk to and fro in the infirmary. "I brought only misery to Isabel to Adele, now to you …" he sobbed.

"Do you really think this is because of Adele?" Athos growled, realising that Aramis still hadn't a clue why the Cardinal had ordered the assault.

"I … I slept with his mistress …" Aramis stammered.

"He brought her to one of his estate's out of Paris, to have her for himself." Athos snorted.

"No, Aramis, this has nothing to do with you and Adele. He would never do such a foolish thing just because of his need for retribution. He only orders such a thing when he thinks that his power is in danger or for the greater good of France." Athos explained.

"But why …?" Aramis mumbled, still deep in thought.

"Because in his eyes you are endangering the monarchy." Athos explained calmly. He wished that he was able to stand up and walk over to his friend, but his weakened body still wouldn't allow him to move and so, all he could do was watch his friend's misery and self-punishment from a distance.

"How? I serve the King, I follow orders … I ..." Aramis gasped as realisation finally hit him. "He cannot know … he mustn't know … this is …" he mumbled turning even paler than before.

"I doubt that he has any evidence, but he suspects something." Athos quietly explained. "Of all the clergy I know, he's the person who doesn't believe in miracles."

"You mean he doubts that King Louis is the father of the Queen's child?" Aramis finally summarised.

"Aramis, he doubted that Queen Anne would be able to have a child with Louis. That's why he ordered her assassination. Now she's with child and he's still suspicious. He knows that only the two of us were with her at the Convent and he's not blind!"

Athos said the last words in an angrier tone.

"You mean …" Aramis pulled his hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his neck.

"When I can see the gazes and glances you both share, he can too. There's a reason why I want you as far away as possible from the Queen -in order to protect the both of you." Athos hissed.

"So, he has no proof, but he suspects that …" Aramis paused again.

"The Cardinal is a man who doesn't take any chances. When the gossip hits the court, it will threaten the King's leadership and thus, the whole of France, Aramis. You have to forget her!" Athos stated firmly.

Aramis collapsed back on the chair he had left only several minutes before and buried his face in his hands. He felt his heart beating in his chest, he felt hot and cold chills running down his spine and he needed all his strength to gather himself, while thousands of thoughts and feelings were crashing over him like a huge wave and he felt as if he were drowning.

Thinking that it had to do with Adele had already been bad enough … but this was much worse. He felt Athos' soft touch on his thigh, trying to be near him, to comfort him, but he still couldn't look up.

"Athos, are you sure?" the medic stammered.

"It is the only explanation as to why the Cardinal would order an attempt on your life." Athos calmly answered his friend. "But I doubt that he has any proof. The Queen, you and I are the only people who knew what happened. Queen Anne would never reveal the truth to anybody. Neither would you or I." he stated firmly.

"I need to leave." Aramis looked up. Athos could see traces of tears on his pale cheeks under his red-rimmed eyes.

"Where do you want to go?" Athos asked quietly, hiding his sadness.

"Away from Paris, maybe my hometown … I don't know …" Aramis mumbled hiding his hands behind his back.

"No! If you do that, the Cardinal will only suspect that he was correct in his assumption and then he will start to question the Queen. You need to stay, continue as if nothing ever happened!" Athos tried to talk some sense into his friend, but he wasn't sure if he was hearing him.

"I only endanger all of you, if I stay. You could have died because of me." Aramis interrupted.

"Don't be a fool! We are soldiers, we live with the threat of losing our lives each day." Athos shook his head. "Aramis, look at me." he added softly.

The medic reluctantly raised his head.

"Look at me." Athos repeated. "What do you see?" he asked.

Aramis blinked, confused.

"I see you, Athos." he answered quietly.

Athos nodded.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"Better." Aramis mumbled. "But your body still needs time to recover." he added suddenly realising that Athos had moved his right arm. His brother still looked white as a ghost, weak and would be unable to leave the bed on his own for several more days.

"Yes, you see me and you hear me. I am alive. I'll need your help - not only the help of Porthos and d'Artagnan, but I'll need your help as well. I want to be able to leave this damn place as soon as possible, start using my arm, start walking again. Start being a Musketeer and not a cripple anymore."

"You are a Musketeer, Athos, even if you are weak, not a cripple." Aramis tried to focus on his friend.

"I need you, Aramis. You cannot leave." Athos repeated.

"You have the others to help you." Aramis insisted, having a déjà vu moment, because these were the same arguments Tréville had given him earlier. But at that point he had thought it had to do with his relationship with Adele, not the Queen and their unborn child.

"I need you … please." Athos repeated stubbornly.

"Why?" Aramis mumbled, confused.

"Because I'm not ready to let you go. I'm not ready to lose you, my friend." Athos admitted and bent his own head.

Aramis breathed out deeply, then he reached for his friend's right hand and gently pressed his fingers.

"I won't leave you, Athos. Promise." he whispered, fighting his emotions again.

Athos stayed quiet for several seconds.

"We need to tell Tréville. He has to know." Aramis stated firmly.

"Are we back at this point?" Athos whispered. "I thought we agreed to never tell this secret to somebody(anyone) else." Athos shook his head.

"We have to, Athos. They need to know. Not only Tréville, but Porthos and d'Artagnan as well. I am tired of lying to my friends and brothers."

"A secret can only stay a secret when no one talks about it." Athos replied. "If we reveal it you will be vulnerable, but not only you- the Queen, the unborn child too. Aramis, it is too dangerous. We have to keep this secret between us! I know it is tough on you, it is tough on me too." Athos admitted quietly.

"Richelieu will try again." Aramis protested.

"Then we will think about how we can protect you." Athos cut in.

"How … like the last time when you talked to him and threatened to go to the King informing him about Milady's actions and the Cardinal hiring her as an assassin? This won't work, Athos. Richelieu will then reveal what he thinks about me and the Queen." Aramis explained.

Athos snorted bitterly.

"He isn't that stupid. He knows that accusing the Queen of such a deed is treason and will most probably cost him his life. He loves his power too much. He won't endanger it, without having any proof." Athos tried to calm Aramis.

"Tréville." Aramis groaned.

"What about him?" Athos asked, confused.

"He told me earlier that he was going to confront the Cardinal. That he will find a way to stop him. He still thinks that Richelieu wanted my death because of my affair with Adele."

Athos stayed silent for several minutes.

"Let him do what he thinks he has to do." He then added. "Our Captain is capable of dealing with him." Athos stated firmly.

"He won't be able to stop the Cardinal. He's the first minister of France. If he does anything without considering all the consequences, he could lose his post as our Captain." Aramis protested.

"Tréville knows what he's doing. Let's wait and find out what he has to tell us. If he has no way to stop the Cardinal we will think about what else we can do." Athos said, calmly.

"What about Porthos and d'Artagnan? Do they know that the Cardinal wanted to see me dead?" Aramis wondered aloud.

"I have no idea what Tréville has told them. I've asked him not to reveal that the Cardinal was after you, but you figured it out and they are not stupid." Athos sighed and shook his head, exhausted.

"No, they aren't." Aramis grinned. "Most probably they will come to the same conclusion as me. I can already hear Porthos rebuking you Athos." Aramis said.

"I think we have to tell them." Athos mumbled.

"That the assault was meant for me?" Aramis whispered.

"Yes, maybe we can give them Adele as a reason, but nothing more. We need to stick to our story." Athos warned Aramis with intensity in his voice.

"I am so tired of lying." Aramis mumbled.

"I know. Me too." Athos closed his eyes. He felt the very same.

Both men stayed silent for a few moments before Aramis spoke:

"Why aren't you mad or angry with me?" he whispered.

"I told you in the Convent … we are good. I keep my word."

Athos answered, searching his friend's eyes. His lips crinkled into a small smile which stayed there for several seconds then faded, But Aramis noticed it and he felt a heavy weight dropping from his chest.

"Then we are good." Aramis sighed, relieved.

"For the next few days. Wait until we start sparring." Athos mocked, but the fond tone and the wrinkle around his eyes didn't go unseen to Aramis.

"Thank you." the medic whispered and Athos nodded.

"Now that this is settled. Any chance to bring me some food. I'm starving." Athos demanded.

"You're really on the mend." Aramis grinned and jumped to his feet. "Wait, I will go and get you some." He quickly crossed the room and left.

"But no soup! I am tired of broth …" Athos shouted after him, but Aramis had already left.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ *** I allowed myself to put Jules Mazarin in this chapter and story. Due to the fact that Richelieu was killed much too early in the TV show, I allowed myself to change the dates a little, so that Mazarin followed Richelieu's post as a Cardinal several years earlier than in reality.**_

 _ **Here is what wikipedia says about Mazarin:**_

 _ **"Cardinal Jules Raymond Mazarin, 1st Duke of Rethel, Mayenne and Nevers; 14 July 1602 – 9 March 1661), born Giulio Raimondo Mazzarino or Mazarino, was an Italian cardinal, diplomat, and politician, who served as the Chief Minister to the kings of France Louis XIII and Louis XIV from 1642 until his death. Mazarin succeeded his mentor, Cardinal Richelieu."**_

 _ **** Aramis and Athos won't find out about Adele's death before e1s2. To stick to the canon of the show I decided that Milady knows about the fact the Richelieu has killed Adele, but that she doesn't reveal that fact to Tréville, so that neither Athos nor Aramis hear about it. I blame it to Athos' weakness that he doesn't start asking questions about Adele's whereabouts. He is too busy with recuperating properly. Otherwise I am sure that he would have gone on his own to Richelieu's estate to search for her and I guess Aramis is simply too shocked about all those other revelations that he doesn't think to check on Adele. I hope that this does sound plausible.**_


	50. Chapter 50

**_Evening from Europe,_**

 ** _thanks to my lovely beta Tricia I can give you the next chapter already tonight. Thank you so much for all your help! xx Kira_**

 ** _I want to thank as well for reading and commenting on ch 49. Positive feedback means a lot to me and helps to move on with continuing this story._**

 ** _I have good news. I have finally managed to finish the story. Wrote the Epilogue last night. This does mean that only 3 chapters (with ch 50 included) are missing. Chapter 51 will be the final chapter and Ch 52 will close up the whole story with an extra long Epilogue._**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara:_**

 ** _"_** ** _That was very emotional and powerful. However it was a long time coming and I'm glad they finally talked._** ** _Looking forward to the next chapter."_**

 ** _Thank you for your review Barbara! Yes they needed to finally clear those things between them. More talk will expect you in ch 50. Enjoy xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _Oh wow!_** ** _That's what I've been waiting for. Treville going ballistic on Richelieu. It was a beautiful thing to read. When the captain mentioned Mazarin, that was the icing on the cake for me. Hee hee!  
I had wondered why in the show that Aramis accepted Adele's disappearance so easily. If they had that close of a relationship you would have thought he'd have questioned why she didn't send him a letter explaining her leaving Paris. That's the thing about TV shows, they leave a lot of things out and leave the viewers hanging and confused. _****_LOL!"_**

 ** _Thank you so much for your review Debbie! I am glad that you enjoyed the plot between Tréville and Richelieu – lol I think Tréville had finally enough._**

 ** _I think Aramis had fallen head over heels in love with a certain Queen – this might be one explanation. The other – well I think he had several women at the same time and when he heard that Adele had left he could accept the fact that she was afraid that Richelieu might find out about them. Adele wasn't something serious like Isabel and later Queen Anne for Aramis. We can see how he treated Marguerite in season 2 … but this is only my opinion. The third explanation would be, they had planned a special story arch for season 2 with Aramis finding out about Adele, but somehow their Cardinal left for becoming Dr Who ;-) xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Enjoy Ch 50_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Chapter 50**

Not wasting any time Tréville ordered d'Artagnan and Porthos to come with him to the garrison. After their return Tréville had jumped from his horse, giving his two soldiers a sign to follow him to his office, he already climbed the stairs to the balcony. Porthos and d'Artagnan shared a meaningful glance between them, then rushed after their Captain. Inside. Tréville invited his two soldiers to sit down.

"I'm aware that you saw me threatening Richelieu in his office today." Tréville started. When both of his men nodded, he continued: "What you have witnessed today must stay between us."

"Aramis and Athos cannot know?" Porthos asked carefully.

Tréville sighed.

"You can tell them, but otherwise it has to stay between us - is that clear?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir." Porthos and d'Artagnan answered in unison.

"Captain, I totally understand why you threatened the Cardinal today. After what he did to Athos …" d'Artagnan replied, but was interrupted by Tréville.

"There's more to it and I need to tell you all of it." Tréville calmly replied.

"More to it?" Porthos frowned.

"You mean why Athos had been the target?" d'Artagnan added.

"I never believed that the incident with Athos and the Red Guards several days ago was the real reason Richelieu ordered the attack on his life." Porthos said helpfully.

Tréville nodded.

"I gave Athos my word not to tell you, but things have changed now and you need to know what is really going on." Tréville continued.

Spoken these last words gained him the undivided attention of his two soldiers and so the Captain of the Musketeers explained to them what he believed was the truth.

"So Aramis was the target?" d'Artagnan shouted, shaking his head in disbelief.

"And Athos knew that the whole time?" Porthos exclaimed.

"He figured it out yesterday." Tréville explained quietly. "He didn't know at the

beginning."

"Where's Aramis now?" Porthos asked carefully, fearing that his best friend would consider leaving.

"I assume he is with Athos. I've ordered him to watch over him. We should give the both of them some space and time to talk about it." Tréville advised.

"He must feel horrible. I would!" d'Artagnan exclaimed.

"He will need our protection." Porthos stated firmly. "The Cardinal will try it again."

"For now, he won't dare to try a second time. I made sure of that today." Tréville looked from Porthos to d'Artagnan.

"How? Did you threaten to kill him?" d'Artagnan asked curiously.

"Believe me, for a moment, I was tempted to press harder." Tréville admitted. "No, I threatened to report the evidence we have gathered about this case to the King and to Mazarin." Tréville smiled mildly.

"Do you think this will stop him?" Porthos looked at his commanding officer's face.

"Right now he won't take any chances. He has been warned." Tréville stated firmly.

"We have to tell Aramis and Athos." d'Artagnan suggested. "And, nevertheless, we need to be vigilant."

"Of course we have to watch his back. Richelieu is a poisonous snake. He will be waiting for another opportunity, but for now he will wait and watch."

"It's probably the best that Aramis doesn't do palace guard for the next weeks." d'Artagnan said and Porthos added:

"You have the perfect excuse for him, Captain. He has to take care of Athos and help him to exercise his arm and leg."

"I already thought about that, but for the next weeks we shouldn't be too worried. King Louis has sent Richelieu on an official journey. He will be away for several weeks."

"When is he leaving?" Porthos wanted to know.

"Tomorrow morning." Tréville answered shortly.

"Being away won't stop him from plotting." Porthos snorted angrily.

"No, but it gives us all some much needed time to come up with some strategies to hold him off." Tréville smiled grimly.

Porthos and d'Artagnan stayed silent. They were grateful for what their Captain had done today. He had risked his own position to protect his men. Nevertheless, they were all aware that they needed to be watchful and careful. Porthos had an urgent need to search for Aramis and talk to him. He knew that his sensitive brother would need some comfort and would blame himself for what had happened to Athos.

D'Artagnan wanted to make sure that both of them were alright. When Tréville felt that they had discussed everything necessary for the moment, he dismissed both soldiers, advising them to wait for Aramis and then see how they could help Athos in the coming days.

 **XXXXX**

Later Tréville watched Porthos, d'Artagnan and Aramis leaving the infirmary from his

balcony. From what Serge had told him earlier, he guessed that they all had eaten together and probably talked about the recent events and developments.

He was glad that Aramis hadn't left. For an instant he hadn't been certain he would stay. Sometimes Aramis was unpredictable. Of all his men he was the person he could judge the least. Of course, he had given him a direct order to stay, but if Aramis was hurting too badly he could easily disobey an order. Driven by his emotions Aramis could do stupid things on the one hand - like punching him, or brave things on the other - like saving the lives of the King, Queen and his comrades in throwing himself of a bomb.

Savoy had changed Aramis and, without Porthos' and Athos' help, Tréville was certain that he would have lost him. It took Aramis several months to start laughing again, to make jokes, to enjoy life and embrace it with his whole heart and soul. Hearing that Athos had been injured because of something he did wrong, would fret him for a while.

 _It will be punishment enough for him._ Tréville shook his head, exhausted.

Tréville knew that he needed to keep an eye on Aramis, to make sure that he was really alright. For weeks now, something had been going on between Athos and Aramis. Neither of them had been ready to talk about it, to reveal what had happened between them or to admit that they were arguing. Tréville wondered if it had to do with a mission he had sent them on. It would explain why Athos went to _Château de Fontainebleau_ on his own that day.

 _Did Athos order Aramis to do something, that the latter only obeyed reluctantly or, indeed not at all? Did Aramis do something which had put Athos in danger unnecessarily?_ Tréville tiredly drew his hand over his face.

The Captain of the Musketeers wasn't sure that it had been the right decision to order Aramis to stay with Athos over the next weeks and help him with his convalescence. Most probably he would have to intervene at some point, but, for now, he hoped that it would give Aramis an opportunity to cope with what happened and this way he also fulfilled Athos' wish to have his friend around him.

Tréville observed Aramis more closely. His marksman appeared not only hurt but downcast. He could see it from the way he was walking slowly over the courtyard, his head bent, not looking up, no joke on his lips, no laughter. The usually so talkative man was silent. He followed his two comrades: d'Artagnan in the lead. Porthos a little behind, turned his head several times, watching over his friend - Tréville didn't miss his concerned glances.

The Captain of the Musketeers stepped back from the balustrade when he felt the Gascon's questioning glance at him. Of course the young man knew that he was watching them. D 'Artagnan silently asked if they should come to him, but Tréville only shook his head. They deserved some time on their own and it was probably best that Porthos and d'Artagnan were heading to the canteen with Aramis. They wouldn't abandon him. They most probably would rebuke him at some point, but they would encourage him as well.

Tréville returned to his office. He stepped over to an old wooden cupboard and searched for an item in it. Satisfied that he had found it, he lifted it in his hands and left his office again. Walking quickly, he descended to the courtyard, crossed it and one minute later he knocked at the door of the infirmary. He received no answer, but entered nevertheless. He put the item carefully down on a small table, next to the door.

Athos seemed to be asleep and so he crossed the room and sat down on the chair next to his Lieutenant.

"Aramis, go. I'm fine." Athos mumbled, his eyes closed.

"I think he would disagree." Tréville quietly responded.

"Captain?"Athos rebuked himself that he hadn't heard him coming.

 _I must have fallen asleep, usually I can tell who's coming from the way they walk._

"I had to tell them … him …" Tréville replied.

"I know." Athos sighed and opened slowly his eyes. "Heard what you did to the Cardinal. You shouldn't..." he added and Tréville could hear a mild reproach in Athos' voice.

"It was necessary." he stated firmly and leaned back on the chair.

"Threatening him physically? He will seek his revenge - not only against Aramis, but against you as well." Athos looked at his commanding officer.

"It's not the first time, that I've done it." Tréville sighed. "Richelieu is wise enough that he knows that the King values my opinion as well - I am still your Captain." Tréville added quietly.

"When? What?" Athos frowned, not really being able to picture Tréville attacking Richelieu.

The picture d'Artagnan and Porthos had painted earlier had already been unbelievable. Not that he didn't know that Tréville - as an experienced soldier - wasn't ready to use force, but his commanding officer was wise enough not to provoke the Cardinal without good reason.

"After Savoy … I punched him in the face. He went down in one go." Tréville gazed into the distance. He had never told any of his men before.

Athos stayed silent, but felt proud that Tréville had revealed this secret to him.

"Should have done the same after we found out who was behind the attack on the Queen, but she was with us." Tréville sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

"She decided to forgive him. It was a wise decision to not react then." Athos struggled to sit more upright. Tréville stood up and without speaking, he helped Athos into a more comfortable sitting position, putting several pillows behind his back.

Athos nodded gratefully and accepted his help. Tréville turned around and walked over to the small table where he had put the item he had brought with him. On the right-hand side, he saw two glasses. He carefully poured the contents of the small bottle he had brought with him into the two cups and reached one of them to Athos. His Lieutenant looked at the orange, red colour of the content of the glass for several seconds, before he accepted it in his left hand.

"Aramis will rebuke me." he stated drily.

"I won't tell him." Tréville raised his glass. "To my Lieutenant! I wish you a speedy recovery!" he toasted.

Athos didn't say a word, but his eyes were glistening and he was fighting to hold his emotions at bay. Tréville could see that Athos was grateful for his deed and his words. They both took several sips of the expensive Cognac.

"Have you talked to him?" Tréville asked cautiously.

"Yes." Athos answered. Tréville had to smile, Athos was back to giving only short answers.

"I hope you cleared the air between you and him." Tréville added carefully.

"It was good talking to him." Athos quietly answered, taking a further sip. The liquid was burning in his throat and made him feel alive.

"Are you alright with him helping you over the next days?"

Tréville asked, not sure if Aramis and Athos would be able to settle everything which was between them.

"He'll beg you to let him step down at one point." Athos answered shortly.

Tréville took another gulp from his Cognac.

"I doubt it. He will see it as his punishment." Tréville chuckled softly.

"I would hate not to have him around me, but don't tell him." Athos quietly answered and a small smile appeared on his lips.

Both soldiers stayed silent for a while, dwelling on their own thoughts.

"Richelieu will try again." Athos suddenly said.

"I know." Tréville sighed. "But he will wait for a while. He knows that my menace wasn't an idle threat. He will consider if one single Musketeer having an affair with his mistress is worth taking that risk a second time."

"I'll think about a plan as to how to protect Aramis." Athos yawned.

"For now, you concentrate on getting better and that is an order." Tréville smiled at him.

"Besides Richelieu will be away for several weeks - he's travelling to Rome. King Louis has asked him to discuss several matters regarding France with the Pope."

"When does he leave?" Athos asked, feeling the need for some more sleep, all the talking was now taking its toll.

Tréville sensing that Athos needed the rest, gently removed the now empty glass from his left hand.

"Tomorrow morning." he quietly answered.

"Good. Then we have time." Athos felt his eyes drooping.

"Yes, we have time." Tréville nodded and gently removed the pillows from behind Athos' back, so that his Lieutenant could rest better. He thought that the swordsman had already fallen asleep, but the latter forced himself to open his eyes.

"Thank you, Captain." he said quietly.

"You are very welcome, Athos."

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Several days later_**

He was greeted by sticky air - humid, and much too warm, smelling like horses and hay - but he loved that smell, it reminded him of his childhood, of better days, when he stole himself away from the family table, visited their horses and could be a normal boy, but not the first-born son of a noble family. In the shades, shadows and dark edges of their stables in Pinon he could hide, daydreaming of a future as a soldier, guarding the King and fighting for France.

Easy days filled with laughter, joy and sometimes he and some servants children played hide and seek and trained to be swordsmen one day with wooden sticks.

He shook his head, chasing these nostalgic thoughts away - not knowing from where they had suddenly appeared -, he wiped some beads of sweat from his face with the sleeve of his shirt, exhausted - a sign that he still was recuperating. The warmth in the stable didn't help him to cool down any and soon new beads shimmered on his flushed face.

Athos took several deep breaths, trying to catch his breath again and cursing himself that he had left without using the cane Porthos had carved for him. He had proudly presented it several days ago, when Doctor Lemay had allowed him to leave the bed in the infirmary for the first time after a few days, which had felt like months - like an eternity.

 _"_ _Don't say you don't need it!"_

Porthos had warned him, noticing his raised eyebrows and the critical look on his still recuperating friend's face and so Athos had swallowed the comment which he had been about to make and, instead, he had nodded in agreement. Several minutes later, he had been more than grateful for Porthos' gift, because walking even a few steps over the infirmary floor had left him in pain, weak, exhausted and, to his own astonishment, breathless.

 _Three days ... how long will I need until I can walk properly again?_ Athos sighed heavily.

Frustrated, and ignoring the pain in his thigh, he limped forward into the semi dark stable, hoping that, besides the horses, there wouldn't be anybody else there.

He needed to be alone! He needed a place where he could let his mask drop for a while! Where he could give into his pain, his anger, his anxiety that he would never be able to serve as a soldier again. He knew that these thoughts were ridiculous, but nevertheless they were there and fretting him. He simply needed a place where he felt at home and could be himself!

He limped several more steps and leaned exhausted at the wooden door to Roger's box, needing all his remaining strength to hold him in an upright position, his left hand firmly gripping the wood, while he felt his left leg trembling more and more.

 _Give it time … Aramis, I am giving it time, but how long?_

Roger, who had noticed his master at once as he limped into the stable, looked curiously at Athos with his big dark eyes. He slightly nodded with his head, but didn't neigh. Feeling the discomfort his master was in, he slowly bent his head, moved nearer to the door of his box and gave Athos a sign to rest his head in his mane, nudging him softly his shoulder with his nose.

"I missed you too." Athos mumbled, digging his face into the black mane, embracing his stallion with his left arm. Loosening his grip on the wood, he gently stroked over the silky skin of his back.

"Thank you for saving my life."

Athos whispered into Roger's ear and buried his face in his stallion's mane. The intelligent animal stayed silent, his ears erect, watching attentively over his master, giving the soldier the time necessary to gather himself. Athos felt tears running over his face and he gently wiped it on Roger's mane.

Athos' ears were still ringing from the loud clang of his sword, which had dropped to the garrison courtyard's floor only minutes ago, after he had thrust his second strike against Aramis' sword. His right arm had betrayed him - still too weak to hold the heavy silver metal item for longer than several seconds. He had suppressed a loud scream when the pain in his arm worsened, too proud to show any signs of weakness.

Of course, he had known that this would most probably happen, but he had wanted to test his right arm, he had wanted to see if he could still use his sword and stubbornly ignoring Aramis' warning words that it was too early, that it would hurt, that it could tear his stitches: he had asked him nevertheless to fight with him and the latter, still punishing himself for what had happened to Athos, couldn't refuse his wish.

Porthos had stood next to them, shaking his head unbelievingly and showing his feelings on the matter -utter stupidity-, but not intervening, knowing that Athos needed to find back to his old self. When Athos' sword had hit the ground hard, Aramis had looked at his brother shocked, his brown eyes widened in concern. He had jumped forward and tried to steady Athos' unsecure steps- his left leg was giving way- and he feared that the swordsman would shortly follow his sword, dropping like a stone to the floor, but somehow, Athos managed to get his balance back.

 _"_ _Leave me alone!"_

Athos shouted frustrated more with himself, than angry at Aramis. Porthos, who had rushed forward, picked up his precious sword and checked with a quick glance that Athos was not really collapsing, shook his head again, but still did not rebuke either of his friends.

Aramis had stepped back several paces, raising his hands asking Athos to calm down, but feeling the need to check on his injured arm at the same time, as Porthos stepped next to him.

 _"_ _Athos - you want to try it a second time?"_

The streetfighter asked, knowing that the best therapy would be to try again. As he was ready to reach him his sword, he gave Aramis a warning glance not to start asking Athos about being hurt. Aramis understood his nonverbal glance at once and nodded his agreement.

 _"_ _I can't!"_

Athos had mumbled more to himself, calm again, trying to gather his emotions.

 _"_ _Give it time!"_

Aramis had answered, stepping next to his friend, wanting to clap him encouragingly on his back while searching for any traces of blood on his white shirt sleeve, but Athos had only shrugged his hands off and limped away from both of his brothers-in-arms.

 _"_ _Where are you going?"_ Porthos exclaimed a little too loudly for Athos' ringing ears.

Porthos did not receive an answer. The swordsman stayed silent. Stubbornly, he limped further away from the both of them, trying to reach the stable as fast as he could. Ignoring the pain in his left leg and right arm, which were both pulsating heavily. He could hear some more words being exchanged between Porthos and Aramis, but he didn't listen to them. They were carried away by the warm wind and he was too focused on reaching the darkness and warmth of the stable.

 **XXXXX**

Porthos rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side, shrugging, he held Aramis back with a hand to his chest, when the medic tried to follow their stubborn brother.

 _"_ _He's without his crane, he's still weak, he will fall …"_ Aramis tried to protest.

 _"_ _He's going to the stable. Give him some time. Stop being overprotective!"_

Porthos rebuked the medic and showed then with his hand into the direction to where Athos was limping slowly away. He knew exactly how Aramis was feeling, because he was ready to run after Athos himself and help him back on their favourite bench so that he could rest there, but he knew his friend too well, that he simply needed some time to himself.

The past few days he hadn't been on his own for even a minute. Most of the time Aramis had spent with him, helping him to exercise his arm and leg and when the medic wasn't there either d'Artagnan or Porthos took their turns at being with him.

D'Artagnan had wondered how long Athos would endure Aramis' mother-henning over him. He and Porthos had a bet going as to how long it would take before Athos shouted at Aramis but to their astonishment Athos had not complained once. If Porthos counted this shout he might have tell d'Artagnan that he had lost- d'Artagnan had said they won't stay calm longer than one day and Porthos had argued it would take at least two days, but he knew that Athos' shout had not been directed against Aramis and so he discounted it. The young Gascon had left several minutes ago to ask Serge for some refreshments, but hadn't returned yet from the kitchen.

Seeing Athos first attempts at sparring in the yard, Porthos was grateful that Tréville had been wise enough to send all the men away - either to palace guard or to training the recruits outside of the garrison- when he had heard that Athos wished to try to practice with his sword late this morning, knowing that his Lieutenant didn't like to be the center of attention at all.

Porthos could hear some footsteps above him and he knew that Tréville had watched the whole spectacle from the balcony, ready to intervene, when he felt it was becoming too much for his convalescing Lieutenant.

"Tréville."

Aramis mouthed to Porthos, having heard the same sounds and the latter gave a short nod, before he led Aramis over to the bench, where they both dropped down.

"How long do we give him in the stable?" Aramis asked quietly.

"As long as he needs." Porthos looked over at Athos, seeing him slow down, but he had nearly reached the entrance of the barn.

"What if he stumbles and falls …" Aramis tried to protest.

"He's old enough to shout for help then." Porthos snorted.

"He won't ask for help. He's too proud." Aramis mumbled.

"I'm giving you the same advice you just gave to Athos: _Give it time_ , Aramis! And we need to give him space, too."

"I know!" Aramis bent his head. "I simply wish …"

"I know what you wish, we all do." Porthos mumbled back, gently squeezing Aramis' nape.

They both could hear running footsteps, Captain Tréville moved quickly down the stairs to the courtyard. Nodding to them, he rushed away without saying a word.

 **XXXXX**

Captain Tréville shook his head, dissatisfied.

 _It's too early for him … he probably knows that himself. I can only hope his stitches are still intact … If Armis did not feel so guilty, he would have never allowed …_

 _Wait, there is someone at the gate …_

 _I … what on earth …_

Tréville didn't hesitate any longer, but rushed down the stairs.

 _This can't be true. I told her to leave …_

 **XXXXX**

Inside the barn, Athos felt himself becoming weaker as his strength faded. He had practised too much and he knew it. He was still supporting himself on the wooden door of Roger's box, to stabilise his left leg, but the pain started to become unbearable and he knew he needed to sit down very soon. Reluctantly he let go of Roger and searched a place where he could limp over and sit down, when a noise made him nearly jump. Someone else was with him in the barn and he didn't mean other horses - a person. He was sure. He slowly turned around, squeezing his eyes shut several times to adjust to the dim light of the stable and to identify the person, who was now standing directly in front of him.

 ** _To be continued ..._**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter should be up next weekend. Thank you for reading xx Kira_**


	51. Chapter 51

_**Evening from Europe,**_

 _ **thank you so much for following, favouring this story and leaving a review during the past months. Here it is my final chapter before the Epilogue.**_

 _ **It's a little longer than usually, but I didn't want to split it up in two parts.**_

 _ **A huge thank you goes out to Tricia for proofreading this chapter!**_

* * *

 _ **To Debbie:**_

 _ **"I loved the fact that Treville punched Richelieu's lights out after Savoy happened. Ha ha ha! Good for your Captain! Well I knew it was too soon for Athos to try his arm out. Stubborn man. Ah, well, I would have been surprised if he hadn't tried to see how it was.**_

 _ **Mmmmmm, well I'm guessing it's Milady turning up. But for the life of me I'm forgetting if Treville told her to leave. LOL!"**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your review, Debbie!**_

 _ **Lol I invented that about Tréville, but with 20 of his men dead … I can imagine that he had to do something.**_

 _ **Athos will always be stubborn, but he needs this fight, this try to find finally back to life!**_

 _ **Hmmm is it Milady ;-) – Athos, told her to leave, Tréville told her … she has her own mind / head …**_

 _ **Wait and find out in this chapter about Milady xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **To Barbara:**_

 _ **"It's not going to be easy for Athos or Aramis, both trying to come to terms with everything. Looking forward to the next chapter."**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your review, Barbara! Athos and Aramis will find a way … well I think lol ;-)**_

 _ **Here comes finally the next chapter. Enjoy xx Kira**_

* * *

 _ **So who is with Athos in the stable?**_

 _ **Enjoy the final chapter of "In the hour of need I can count on you!"**_

 _ **xx Kira**_

* * *

 **Chapter 51**

Captain Tréville's eyes hadn't deceived him. The woman, draped with a dark blue cape, tried to hurry away, but the Musketeer was faster and stepped into her path.

"I told you to leave and never to return!" He hissed, while her angry green eyes stared at him, her face still hidden under the long cape, but he could see a mocking smirk around her lips.

"Easier said than done," Milady whispered dangerously. Then she removed the cape from her head and her dark curly hair fell over her shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Tréville asked and stepped closer towards her.

"To leave, I would need money." she laughed aloud, and said bitterly. "I even asked you for money - remember." She glared angrily at him.

"That's why you returned to the garrison?"

Tréville frowned, realising that, once again, he had no idea how he should judge her behaviour. Then he slowly reached for a small purse, which he had tied with a small leather ribbon, in the inside of his leather jacket. He removed it with some swift moves, opened it and looked into it.

"This should be enough."

Tréville counted how many coins it contained and closed the purse again. Silently, he reached for her left hand and pressed the small leather item into it, but Milady simply let it drop to the ground. Tréville hesitated - hadn't she just asked him for money?

 _Why is she really here?_

"I don't need it anymore!" Milady raised her head, too proud to accept the purse which was heavy enough to be worth a lot of money - she had no doubts about that.

"No? You just said, you couldn't leave, because you needed money. So what do you really want here?" Tréville said, his voice now filled with anger.

"I wanted …" Milady paused, thinking about her next words. "How is he?" she finally asked, barely audible and with an obvious hitch in her voice.

"He is recovering but I doubt that seeing you would help him." Tréville answered observing her closely.

She nodded slightly.

"So, he will live?" she asked and Tréville could see her eyes filling up with tears, which she struggled to hold back.

"He will." Tréville answered quietly.

"Good." Milady breathed out. "That's all I wanted to know."

She calmly put her cape on again and turned around, but didn't walk away. There was a feeling of unfinished business in the air, something she wanted to reveal, but decided to hold back. Tréville could sense that this dangerous and intelligent woman wasn't finished yet.

"Leave and never return!" Tréville ordered commandingly, whilst waiting for any further reaction from her.

"I cannot promise that we will never see each other again, Captain Tréville, but I accept what you are doing for my husband."

With these words said, Milady walked away without looking back. The Captain of the Musketeers stayed where he was for several more minutes, watching her disappearing into the small lane which was filled with market stands next to the garrison. She walked slowly, her whole posture erect, her head held high. A woman with confidence, as if she were on a mission. A small smile passed over his face.

 _Yes, a mission, she reminds me of a soldier._

Tréville shook his head, confused. Then he walked over to his men who were on guard at the gates and made sure that they knew not to allow her entry again.

 **XXXXX**

A little earlier in the stable

"You should sit down." d'Artagnan stated firmly, coughing slightly.

"Yes, I should." Athos acknowledged d'Artagnan's concerned expression.

The young Gascon, noticing Athos' left leg trembling, stepped next to his mentor and led him over to a wooden bench*, where Porthos and he had sat several days ago. He could hear Athos' sigh of relief, when the swordsman finally dropped onto it.

"Thank you." Athos mumbled, while closing his eyes and resting on the soft seat, which was covered with hay.

"Why did I have the feeling that you probably might need some help." D'Artagnan grinned, while dropping next to his mentor on the bench and supporting his shoulder with a hand on his back. Then in a more earnest tone he asked: "What are you doing in here?"

Athos stayed silent for several seconds, then he turned his face towards his friend's and opened his eyes:

"Probably hiding." he murmured.

"Hiding from what?" D'Artagnan asked curiously, but Athos stayed silent again.

"You look tired, Athos. I should help you back into the infirmary." d'Artagnan stated firmly, seeing Athos' exhaustion and frustration as he sat next to him. He stood up and was ready to help his friend back to his feet when the latter looked up to him and slowly began to speak:

"I've been hiding from you for several days now."

D'Artagnan looked at his mentor in confusion, not sure if he was making a joke, as he had been with Athos the past few days, helping him, watching over him while he was sleeping, talking or reading to him when he was bored.

"You are not hiding from me," d'Artagnan rebuked him. "More probably from Aramis, because he punishes himself by tending to your needs every free minute he has." d'Artagnan paused. "I know that he is blaming himself …" He stopped, when Athos interrupted him.

"There is no reason for him to punish himself, I have forgiven him and he knows that," Athos paused. "This" - he pointed at his left leg and then his right arm with his left hand, "is not Aramis doing, but Richelieu's and the men he engaged to carry out the attack!" Athos stated firmly.

"It's one thing to understand it in your head and another to accept it in your heart."

D'Artagnan answered quietly, sitting back next to Athos, sensing that the swordsman wanted to tell him something important.

"But he shouldn't blame himself." Athos tiredly shook his head. "You wouldn't blame yourself if you were in his shoes." Athos added quietly, but the affirmation was posed more as a question and d'Artagnan felt slightly uneasy.

 _What is it what Athos wants to tell me? Why is he talking about hiding? What have I missed these past days?_

The young Gascon thought hard. Being here in the stable with Athos, reminded him of the talk he had had with Porthos in this very same place several days ago. Back then, he had the dull feeling that Porthos had held something back. Now remembering this small episode, he positioned himself so that he could see into Athos' eyes and answered:

"Do you really think that?" d'Artagnan started and paused, gathering his thoughts. Then he continued: "Believe me, I would blame myself and you, Athos, - you of all people would blame and punish yourself, too, if it had been the other way round. I know you."

D'Artagnan paused, observing his friend's expression, who was obviously trying to hide something from him then he sighed aloud:

"Anyway, it lies in the past. You are much better. That's all that matters for now." d'Artagnan attempted to stand up again with a joking smile. "So, we have done enough hiding." He grinned. "Come on I will take you back." he slapped Athos on the back encouragingly.

Before Athos could protest, the Gascon was standing in front of him. Taking hold of Athos' wrists he pulled him in an upright position. To his own astonishment Athos allowed himself to be helped.

"Lean on me."

D'Artagnan ordered confidently and, once again, Athos accepted his help. They made their way out of the stable slowly, Athos leaning more and more on d'Artagnan, but when the Gascon was about to head back towards the infirmary he stopped.

"My quarters." he said shortly and d'Artagnan frowned, not sure if Aramis would be happy with Athos' decision. When the latter noticed d'Artagnan hesitating, he added quietly, "I have something for you."

"What?"

D'Artagnan asked, confused, but Athos fell silent again. Instead, he started to limp a little faster in the direction of his room, ignoring the pain in his leg, determined to reach his destination without being stopped by Aramis. D'Artagnan looked at him, slightly bemused at his mentor's quick pace, realising that Athos was getting stronger each day. He was relieved and had to stop himself from laughing at the way Athos was walking, which did look kind of hilarious.

In the distance Aramis and Porthos watched d'Artagnan helping Athos back. When both men paused, it was Porthos who jumped up, not sure if they needed his help. This time it was Aramis who held him back.

"Wait. I think I know what Athos has in mind." he explained quietly.

Porthos sat down again. He followed with his eyes the new direction, leading towards Athos' room.

"It's about time." Porthos mumbled a sigh of relief escaping his lips, while he dropped down next to Aramis again.

"Yes, it is." Aramis agreed. "Anyway, it won't be easy."

"He owes him the truth."

"Of course he does - but believe me it won't be easy for either of them."

"Stop worrying so much, Aramis. Athos loves the boy like a younger brother. He will never allow himself to hurt him."

"You know he would hit you for that comment!"

"Who? Athos?" Porthos laughed out loud, finding that thought funny somehow.

"No, d'Artagnan! He isn't a boy anymore." Aramis chided him with a grin.

"He'll be on the way to becoming a man, when he learns from his mistakes." Porthos grumbled.

"Do you mean me or d'Artagnan now?" Aramis asked unsure, reminded of his own mistakes.

"Maybe the both of you." Porthos snorted, with a twinkle in his eye.

 **XXXXX**

 _ **Several minutes later**_

D'Artagnan helped his exhausted friend sit down on his bed. He could see beads of sweat covering his friend's face, but he didn't say a word. Instead he looked around Athos' room, he couldn't see a tankard of water, but only an empty glass. There was a bottle of wine hidden in a chest, d'Artagnan was sure of it, but that wasn't what he was looking for.

"I'll be back in a minute." d'Artagnan exclaimed and before Athos could stop him, his young friend hurried away.

Athos wiped his forehead with his shirtsleeve, then leaned back against the wall. For an instant he closed his eyes. He felt tired, but restless at the same time.

 _How shall I tell him? He will blame himself. He just told me he would! Get it over with Athos. That is not you thinking and speaking like this. D'Artagnan deserves the truth and he is grown up enough to live with what happened to his dagger. Besides if I don't tell him - Porthos is right - and he finds out about it, it will hurt him more, than if I explain to him how the dagger saved Aramis' and my life._

The swordsman drew a hand over his face, exhausted. Then he looked around his room, which he hadn't seen or stayed in for several days now. It looked tidy, tidier than he remembered. Some empty wine bottles had disappeared, one of his shirts was lying neatly folded on a small table. It looked as if it had been cleaned. Next to it was a brown cloth which covered something. He was sure that one - or all three of his brothers- had been in here and cleaned for him. No traces of dust on the floor or upon his table. His eyes rested a little longer on the brown cloth which didn't belong to him.

 _Porthos has kept to his word … it must be the dagger._

Carefully testing if his left foot would hold his weight, Athos stood up again. Suppressing a grunt, he limped over to the table and was just about to unwrap the bundle, when d'Artagnan burst through the open door with a tankard of fresh water in his left hand.

Expecting Athos to rest and already be lying on his bed resting, he looked at his mentor, irritated.

"Athos, what are you doing?" he chided him.

Without speaking the swordsman turned around slowly. Holding the brown cloth in his hands, he limped back to his bed and sat down carefully, the small bundle resting on his lap and covering it with his right hand.

"You should rest and not wander around in your room." d'Artagnan rebuked him. "Here." He poured some water into the glass and reached it towards his mentor, who took it in his left hand, but didn't make any move to take a sip. "Drink." d'Artagnan encouraged Athos, but the latter just shook his head.

"Later. First we need to talk." Athos answered with a wry smile and put the glass on a rickety table next to the head of his bed.

D'Artagnan shuffled from one foot to another, undecided, too agitated to be still. He felt that something was up. The way Athos acted, the way he looked, the way he was searching for the right words. The uneasy feeling he had had in the stable returned again. It was not like Athos to behave like that.

"Sit down!" Athos addressed him, pointing to the only chair he owned with his good hand.

The young Gascon immediately moved, bringing the chair over to Athos' bed and sat down opposite to him, with enough distance between them so that he could still observe Athos' tired face.

An awkward silence pervaded in the room. D'Artagnan, never being good at being patient and always eager to find what was going on, looked into his mentor's face:

"You said you have something for me. Is it what you are holding on your lap?" he asked carefully, while Athos' eyes had a distant look, as if he were miles away, not here in his room.

Athos forced himself to look at the brown cloth. Without saying anything or giving any explanation he took it in his right hand. Ignoring the increasingly dull pain in his hand, he reached the small bundle to d'Artagnan who could feel the heavy item, hidden under the thick fabric.

"This belongs to you." Athos quietly explained, as d'Artagnan started to unwrap it. His eyes scanned the sharp dagger which was revealed under the cloth, the precious and well-crafted handle decorated with some rock crystals which were etched with a fleur-de-lys on both sides. D'Artagnan held his breath when he realised what he was holding in his hands.

"My main-gauge - I thought it was lost." he whispered. "How …?" He wanted to ask, but realised that Athos couldn't be the one who had found it.

"It … it found its way back to me …" Athos paused, "and it belongs to you." he calmly explained.

"How?" d'Artagnan repeated his question, noticing that Athos was looking at the dagger in his hand.

"I always wanted you to have it. It belonged to Thomas. It is one of the few things I took with me, when I left Pinon. "My sword" - he pointed at the wall behind him, where it was hanging over his bed- "and several main-gauches, including this one. I gifted it to Thomas when he turned sixteen, but he never used it. He was never really interested in sword fighting like me … more in pistols ..." Athos paused, feeling the loss of his younger brother as a dull pain still in his soul. He doubted that this pain would ever leave him.

D'Artagnan waited for several seconds, not sure if Athos wanted to add something more, but when he noticed that Athos had bent his head and was looking at the floor of his room, he knew he had to say something. Quietly stunned, because talking and giving away so much of himself was not something that Athos did very often, d'Artagnan searched in vain for the right words.

"I … I had no idea."

D'Artagnan gulped. He had assumed that the main-gauche could be one of Athos', but that it had belonged to his younger brother -and had been a gift from him to Thomas- was new to him.

"I decided to give it to you after your Commission. The way when you fought for Tréville, following your heart, but not losing your head in killing LaBarge - that was the moment when I knew that you would honour this dagger. You were ready to be a Musketeer and the right person for this main-gauche." Athos quietly revealed, then he fell silent again and d'Artagnan had the impression that his friend was reliving the moment when he had been commissioned by the King several months ago.

"Athos? I lost it at _Château de Fontainebleau_ , when …"

D'Artagnan muttered perplexed. Searching again for the right words and realising finally that this gesture of Athos gifting him Thomas' main-gauche was a sign that he was not only a good friend to Athos, but had become another brother to him, just like Aramis and Porthos.

He bent his head in awe, then he looked up into his mentor's green eyes, which which were now more alert. He expected Athos to be angry about the fact that he had lost the dagger, but there was no sign of anger in his face, in fact he looked relieved, but d'Artagnan had no idea why.

"How did it come back to you? I lost it at _Château de Fontainebleau_ , when …" d'Artagnan repeated and then paused while his face growing pale as realisation suddenly hit him. Shocked, he pressed his hand to his mouth.

"Juan?" he mumbled. "Please, tell me that this isn't true. Please tell me that …"

D'Artagnan felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he wiped them away with his shirtsleeve - this was not the time to wallow in self-pity.

"He must have taken it from you, while you were lying unconscious on the floor after you had fallen from the tree. Tréville told me." Athos explained shortly, not judging d'Artagnan showing what he really thought about his younger friend's idea. He had wanted to help, and the care and worry for his friend had caused him to be momentarily careless.

 _I still have to teach him to follow his head and not only his heart._ Athos thought.

The swordsman reached towards d'Artagnan's shoulder with his left hand and pressed it gently, showing d'Artagnan that he didn't blame him for what had happened.

"He attacked you with the main-gauche you gifted to me, didn't he?" d'Artagnan whispered. "The dagger you gifted to me is responsible for the wound in your right arm." The young Gascon paled slightly.

"That doesn't matter." Athos said in a firm voice, realising that his friend needed his encouragement and support.

"How can you say that? It doesn't matter … you nearly died because of … you nearly lost your sword arm!" d'Artagnan loudly protested.

The young Gascon observed the dagger which he was still holding in his hands more closely, searching for any remaining traces of blood, but he couldn't find any.

 _Whoever has secured the weapon after the attack must have cleaned it._

Disgusted by the horrible deed which had been performed with his dagger he let it drop on the floor. As he jumped to his feet, the chair on which he had been sitting fell over and clattered to the floor with a loud thud. Taking several steps backwards, unable to look into Athos' face, he stammered:

"I need to go."

The young Gascon turned around and wanted to run out of desperate to escape the room, but Athos' next words made him halt and turn around again.

"Stay!" Athos stated firmly. "It wasn't your fault and you know it!"

"How? How can you say that this is not my fault, Athos?" d'Artagnan shouted at his mentor while swirling around. "I was careless, Juan stole the dagger from me! I should have been more careful. I will never be able to forgive myself." Hot, angry tears ran down his face. Angry with himself for crying, he turned away from Athos, quickly wiping his face.

"This dagger saved my life, d'Artagnan."

Athos calmly explained, while he forced his weak body into an upright position and limped over to his protégé. Unsteady on his feet, he put both of his hands on d'Artagnan's shoulders, not only to calm his younger friend, but to steady himself and thus preventing himself from stumbling and falling onto the floor. His left leg had finally decided that it had had enough strain for one day.

The Gascon noticed the trembling limb and, without saying a word or hesitating, he helped Athos back to his bed, where they sat close to each other - their shoulders nearly touching. Putting his hand around his mentor's waist, he steadied Athos' back.

"This dagger nearly killed you, Athos." d'Artagnan protested with compassion in his voice.

"Juan had several weapons with him. If he did not use this one, he would have used another - Tréville told me." Athos shrugged, trying to reason with d'Artagnan.

"Through my mistake …" d'Artagnan said, not really listening to Athos' words.

"Stop it!" Athos said sharply. "I recognised your dagger and I was worried that Juan had injured you. The concern for your well-being made me fight to survive, d'Artagnan." Athos quietly admitted.

D'Artagnan could feel his mentor trembling from exhaustion next to him and he wondered how long Aramis and Athos had sparred for. He had left before they had started, figuring that Athos would prefer his first steps back not to be watched by many. He was very proud of his swordsmanship, even if he would never admit it.

"You thought he had hurt me?" d'Artagnan asked in disbelief.

"He told me that he had killed you."

Athos breathed out heavily, feeling hot and cold at the same time, but managing to stay calm - finally controlling his feelings made him feel more secure and give him some of his strength back. D'Artagnan remained silent, searching for the right words, while becoming more and more aware that Athos was losing his fight against his own body. He tightened his grip and felt his mentor leaning gratefully on him.

"I wasn't ready to lose another brother- to lose you."

Athos quietly explained, suddenly feeling very tired, but d'Artagnan's firm grip helped him to stay upright and so he braced himself and continued:

"Seeing this main-gauche and recognising it made you fight for your life in order to rescue me." d'Artagnan whispered -suddenly understanding- into his friend's ear, his voice rough, filled with emotion. Athos had called him, not only his friend, but his brother. He could feel Athos nodding slightly, but unable to say anything - he was simply too spent.

"You need to rest, Athos."

D'Artagnan ordered, but the swordsman didn't react. For a moment the young Gascon thought Athos had fallen asleep next to him, his head slightly bent, his eyes closed. He was about to lie him gently on his bed when the former Comte protested with a grunt.

"Keep the dagger." he mumbled.

"I ..." d'Artagnan paused.

 _I cannot say I can't. Not anymore. He gifted me this dagger and it came back to me. I have to accept it._

"Thank you, Athos." d'Artagnan bowed his head slightly for a second, but then he straightened and said in a firm voice. "I promise I will take better care of it this time."

"It won't happen to you … a second time." Athos said, barely audible, struggling to open his eyes.

"Shhh … rest." d'Artagnan tightened his grip, holding his trembling friend close to his shoulder, laying his other hand on his left shoulder, squeezing it gently as a sign of support.

"I wish I was stronger." Athos sighed frustrated.

"Your strength is coming back, Athos. You might not see it, but I do." d'Artagnan encouraged his brother. "Let me help you to lie down. Your body needs to sleep." he added.

"I couldn't fight with my sword today. It fell down. Aramis easily beat me." he mumbled.

"Your arm will become stronger with each passing day. Don't give up." d'Artagnan calmed his ailing brother. "Sleep now!" he added again.

D'Artagnan looked at the dagger which was still lying on the floor, waited a second and then lifted it again and weighed it cautiously. He remembered how Athos had gifted it to him after his commission. How he had been proud of this precious present and how he had sworn to himself to treat it with dignity and watch over it so that Athos would be proud of him.

"Why do you think Tréville ordered you to do stable duty for the next four weeks?" Athos mumbled, with a gentle grin on his lips, which disappeared when he yawned again.

"I …" D'Artagnan gulped. "I thought that was for climbing that tree." he protested.

"I think it was for terrifying that owl." Athos mocked him gently. Then, with a more earnest tone in his voice, the swordsman added: "It's back where it belongs." Noticing that d'Artagnan was deep in thought, he yawned. while feeling his eyes droop heavily. "And you and Aramis are alive, that is all what matters to me."

Athos stated matter of factly. He gently squeezed d'Artagnan's hand with his right and fell then asleep."

D'Artagnan watched the gentle rise and fall of Athos' chest.

 _How can he forgive me so easily? He always reminds me head over heart and by climbing that tree I followed my heart, not my head. I endangered him and other Musketeers …_

D'Artagnan was too busy thinking about the talk and experience he had just shared with Athos that he didn't hear the gentle knock on the door. It was only when he heard steps scraping on the wooden floor panels, the Gascon turned his head. Aramis and Porthos where standing at the threshold peering carefully into Athos' room, both curious and concerned at what they might find behind the door.

" _He's sleeping._ " d'Artagnan communicated with a look, while putting his finger on his lips.

Porthos recognised the dagger the young man was holding in his other hand at once.

"He finally told you!" He walked over to d'Artagnan who looked puzzled.

"You both knew." he whispered ashamed.

"It wasn't our place to tell you." Aramis answered quietly, while stepping next to Athos' bed and checking on his sleeping friend.

"He asked us not to tell you." Porthos added. "Told him that he should come clean with you at one point." Porthos looked fondly at his sleeping brother.

"He's fine." D'Artagnan stated.

"He will be fine!" Aramis stressed.

"And so will you!" Porthos gently squeezed d'Artagnan's nape. "Let's go and give him some much needed beauty sleep." he teased the young Gascon. He gently pushed their youngest Musketeer out of the door, Aramis following them after making sure that Athos was really alright.

He had feared that moment; knowing that Athos was afraid of losing d'Artagnan as a friend and that it might destroy their fledgling friendship. But the fact that d'Artagnan stayed by Athos' side and didn't leave when he heard about Juan and his dagger, told him that both men could easily clear up any difficulties that might arise between them.

"Aramis."

Porthos mouthed and the medic hurried behind the two other Musketeers, quietly closing the door behind him. A few more weeks, and Athos would be able to use his thigh and arm properly again. The sword fight today had been the first step in the right direction and even if Athos still doubted that he was better, Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan could see how he was getting a little stronger each day and getting back to himself.

"I'm coming!"

Aramis replied quietly, watching Porthos taking care of d'Artagnan, asking him what Athos had told him regarding the dagger and Juan. The young man was still holding it in his hand and then handed it to Porthos, so that he could have a closer look at it, unaware that it had been Porthos who had cleaned the dagger and left it for Athos in his room. The young Gascon gesticulated wildly with his hands and arms explaining what had happened, as Porthos laid his arm over his shoulder and pulled him into a sideways embrace, showing the young man that he had done well, before he gave him the precious dagger back.

 _If Athos can forgive d'Artagnan and me; if the Gascon can accept Athos' forgiveness, it's about time that I do the same. It doesn't help Athos - or my comrades- when I continue with this self-sacrifice. What has happened lies in the past, the future is what counts and where we will live and fight another day._

It was these signs of friendship and brotherhood shared and shown by Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan which finally gave Aramis hope that he could move on. In every crisis, Aramis thought, you find out who your true friends are- who would hold to you, who didn't give up on you. The attack on his life, which had injured Athos instead of him proved this to him. In the hour of need they hadn't abandoned each other, but helped each other to pull through, to be there for each other, to forgive each other. This was their gift, their strength and their brotherly bond which made them live and fight another day.

Aramis shook his head exhausted, but with new hope in his heart. He shouldn't have feared the talk between d'Artagnan and Athos. They could count on each other and even if he wasn't able to tell Porthos, d'Artagnan and Tréville about his deepest secret he knew he would be forgiven if he were to ever tell them, because their friendship was stronger than their flaws.

Porthos turned around again, when he noticed that Aramis wasn't following them.

"Aramis?" He looked questioningly at the medic and d'Artagnan followed Porthos' gaze.

"I will go back and wait at Athos' bedside." Aramis explained.

"Give him some space!" Porthos grunted.

"He is sleeping." d'Artagnan added. "Allow yourself to rest as well."

Aramis smiled at the both of them.

"I can rest in his room just as well as in my own. We'll see each other later."

The medic shook his head in apology, then he turned towards Athos' room. Porthos and d'Artagnan looked at each other for a moment before they hurried after him. When they caught up to him they both laid an arm around his shoulders. One on his right, the other on his left, Aramis was now standing in the middle.

"What are you doing?" Aramis asked, confused.

"We will wait … and rest ... " Porthos started,

"... and watch at Athos' side …" d'Artagnan finished with a big grin on his face.

"with you!" Porthos added, squeezing his friend's nape gently, while all three of them were thinking - _all for one and one for all_ \- with bright smiles on their faces.

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N:**

*I decided to change the hay bales into a bench, because as I have learned through another story they did not exist back then.

* * *

 _ **Some thoughts to this chapter**_

 ** _Writing the stable scene took me a while. From the very beginning of this story I wanted to have a scene with Athos thanking Roger for rescuing and saving his life. It appears to me that the stable had an important role in this story. Not only was Milady hiding in it and found there by Serge. It was the place where Porthos fled when he was at his lowest and where d'Artagnan found him._**

 ** _I admit I struggled with the thought where and when d'Artagnan and Athos would have the final talk about the main-gauche and I knew Athos had to be alone with d'Artagnan to tell him. I always considered that his quarters would be better for this talk than the infirmary. But how should Athos get there? I knew that d'Artagnan had to appear at the stable, but each time when I started to write this part, suddenly Serge appeared for my inner eye finding Athos in the stable and talking to him and how he could exercise his arm. I heard him saying over and over again: "You have to try it with dough." And Athos would answer with shrugging his shoulders and a slightly confused and bemused: "What?" Nevertheless I know where this idea comes from and I know that the story of how Athos is recuperating after an injury to his shoulder/arm is already so well written by Greenlips. No need to repeat or try to compete with such an excellent story. For those of you who are interested and don't know this story yet, I can only advise you to check it out, it is excellent. You find it on Greenlips page. The name of the story is "What do I do now?"_**

 ** _Maybe some of you have guessed that it would be Milady talking to Athos in the stable. As much as I love to write Athos and Milady together, I decided against it._**

 ** _Tréville was lucky to stop her from entering, because she wanted to talk or at least see how Athos was. What made me pause and not go to that meeting in the stable is the way Athos' reacts on seeing her in e2s2 after they find her together with d'Artagnan and the King in the woods._**

 ** _The usual so thoughtful and calm Musketeer is fighting with his feelings/emotions. To meet her again is a shock for him and it is more than obvious that Aramis is taking over the leading role, so that Athos can gather his feelings._**

 ** _I could have ended the story here, but there are still some loose ends, which I will try to close up in the Epilogue …_**

 ** _Thank you for reading! xx Kira_**


	52. Epilogue

**_Evening from Europe!_**

 ** _Here it is my final chapter of "In the hour of need … I can count on you"._**

 ** _I never expected that it would take me that long to finish a story which I started last year in July. Following some themes from a fb page, which name I've forgotten (lol)._**

 ** _I tried to put in Athos, Aramis, Porthos, d'Artagnan, the Cardinal and Milady and focus on each character at least for one chapter. So the plot slightly changed with adding more and more characters and I ended up in writing several background stories._**

 ** _From the beginning I knew that I wanted to write an Athos/Aramis friendship fanfic, but of course with Porthos and d'Artagnan being with them. They are a team, brothers and the title of my story should show that they stick together in dire situations and don't let each other down._**

 ** _I want to say thank you to all of you who have read my story, who started to follow, who favourited it (and still stayed until the end) of this story. I have to thank all of you who have left positive reviews. Feedback is always very important for every fanfic writer and seeing that you are enjoying a story, encourages someone to continue._**

 ** _Thank you so much to Mountain Cat without her help, her advice, discussing several chapters and ideas over and over I would have given up on this story a long time ago. It was fun to discuss with you Musketeers and I am looking forward to more of these chats._**

 ** _Thank you to Beth for proofreading the first chapters of this story until December (I believe) and to Tricia who then took over and helped me along during the past months. I know that I have taken a lot of time from her and I asked her several times, if she wants me to ask somebody else, but each time she told me she will help me until the last chapter and she kept her word! I am sure I have learned from the both of you some more about English grammar and definitely new words, but I know that I repeated several mistakes over and over again in the following chapters. So thank you for your patience._**

* * *

 ** _To_** ** _Doubtful Guest:_** ** _"_** ** _And my thanks to you for writing this highly entertaining story. I'm looking forward to the Epilogue."_**

 ** _Aww thank you so much! I am glad you liked that story. Sorry for the delay with the Epilogue! xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Debbie:_**

 ** _"_** ** _I was right about it being Milady. Nice to know she isn't quite as greedy as she acts and only wanted to find out about Athos' condition. Papa Treville guarding his chicks as best he can warning her to not come back again for fear Athos would be hurt all the more from her presence.  
I'm glad Athos finally, finally told d'Art about the lad's dagger. Also that it originally belonged to Thomas. It was a very interesting exchange between them and I really liked it. This was the end and yet you have an epilogue to come. So now I'm anxious for that. Great wrap-up though."_**

 ** _Thank you so much Debbie for this comment and for all your other reviews to each of my chapters. It means a lot! I was always looking forward to your reviews. Yes you were right about Milady, but she wasn't in the stable lol_** ** _J_** ** _Tréville tries his best to protect Athos!_**

 ** _I am sorry for the delay with the talk between Athos and d'Artagnan. It was the toughest part for me to write. Glad you liked it! Enjoy the Epilogue xx_**

 ** _P.S. Not sure when I'll find the time to write another story, but I haven't forgotten about that d'Artagnan/Athos story, which I have started in February, nevertheless I will pause for a while, because real life is very demanding right now. xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _To Barbara: "_** ** _Very powerful and emotional chapter. It's good they are all back together looking out for each other. Nothing can break that bond."_**

 ** _Thank you so much Barbara for this review and all the others! It was the toughest chapter for me to write. I agree with you they stick together and are helping each other in their hours of need xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _So here it is the final chapter 52!_**

 ** _I had the idea for this Epilogue in the very early stages of this story and I am happy to present it now really in my final chapter. Enjoy!_**

 ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 ** _Several weeks later ..._**

The loud clashing of iron was one of the noises which usually filled the courtyard of the garrison. The sound echoed through the courtyard, but no one stopped what they were doing or looked up to check who was fighting – other than Porthos, who was leaning, relaxed, against a wooden pillar under the balcony which led to Tréville's office. He was enjoying the sunshine on his face and the fight which was going on in front of him - glad that it wasn't him who was having to use his sword.

The streetfighter admired the silvery shining blades, which cast long shadows on the ground while they were used by two experienced soldiers over and over again to attack, to try new fighting scenarios, to prepare them for the real fight. It looked more like a choreographed and elegant dance, rather than a training exercise. It was obvious to Porthos which of his brothers had the upper hand in this fight. After weeks of training, of helping Athos back on his feet and to return to his old form, it was good to see that he had re-gained not only the weight he had lost but also his strength. His arm had healed properly. Aramis had predicted that he might feel a dull pain within a sudden weather change or during winter, but, other than that, Athos had recovered well and - to their relief, - quickly.

Porthos was smiling, seeing this picture in front of him made him content and, now and then, he laughed out loud, watching his other brother made minor mistakes which made him stumble, throwing his arms in the air and making him look more like a harlequin than a Musketeer. Only one -if he counted Tréville- two swordsmen were that good. Athos knew exactly how far he could push, so that Aramis would still be able to continue the fight.

It was a hot day; the afternoon sun was burning on his comrades slightly flushed faces and both men were sweating heavily.

"Stop laughing!" Aramis shouted at Porthos, when he heard the outburst next to him. "I could use some help, here!" he added, panting for air, while grinning at Athos, who only raised his eyebrow, which meant that the medic should stop complaining and continue to fight.

"Why?" Porthos frowned. "I think Athos is capable of beating you."

The streetfighter mocked Aramis making it clear that he had no intentions of supporting the medic. Aramis turned his head around, just in time, to block Athos' new attack with his blade. Athos bowed his head respectfully, before he released his own weapon, taking several steps backwards and shouting "En garde!" thus forcing Aramis to start another round.

The marksman mumbled some words under his breath -probably some swear words- to himself, regretting that he had suggested practising with Athos after lunch.

"Finally!"

D'Artagnan exclaimed from the other side of the courtyard and made all three heads of his brothers turn towards him. The young Musketeer had just finished his last day of stable duty and was now holding a broomstick in his hand, which he leant against the wall near the entrance to the stable, stretching his long arms into the air.

"Care to join in?" Aramis begged him.

A bright smile appeared on d'Artagnan's face, and he walked quickly over to their favourite bench where he had put his weapon's belt earlier. Reaching for his sword and main-gauche, he drew his hand through his hair, removing some straw before joining Aramis and Athos.

"Porthos?"

Athos turned his head towards the big man, who still did not show any intentions of joining them. Instead of walking over to Athos, he simply reached for his sword, made sure that he had eye contact with the swordsman and through it over to him. Athos easily caught it by the hilt in his right hand. With a soft smile on his lips and a short nod, he thanked Porthos but now with two blades in his hands.

"You can't be serious!"

Aramis exclaimed, feeling exhausted, drawing his hand through his hair, only wishing to drop on the bench and drink some cool water.

"You wanted to fight." Athos said in his usual monotone voice.

His brothers knew that he was mocking the medic, who joined in easily with their banter. They were all glad that Athos was finally back to his normal self.

"Come on, Aramis." d'Artagnan shouted and before the marksman realised what was happening he was attacked from both sides.

"Hey, I thought you were helping me!"

Aramis dodged away, took several steps backwards ensuring that he had a few seconds to catch his breath and gather himself before the next attack.

"Yes, in training Athos." d'Artagnan grinned.

"It seems the both of you need more training than me."

Athos chided them with a fond smile. Enjoying the sun on his back, he felt better than he had in days. He was just about to launch his second attack, using both swords, one directed towards Aramis, parrying an attack from d'Artagnan with the other, when he heard an unusual noise for this time of the day. He concentrated on the sound and ignored Aramis' attack. The medic moved to strike, but paused when he realised that Athos wasn't paying attention. With a quick movement of his hand the medic brought d'Artagnan, who had more energy and was looking forward to the sword fight, to a halt.

Porthos, who was eating on an apple he had taken from a basket which Serge had left at the table, looked up, irritated when he didn't hear the sound of the swords clashing anymore.

"What?" he asked.

"Quiet!" Athos addressed them. "Listen!"

Now all four of them were listening. The chirping of the birds had fallen silent, instead they could hear the toll of a bell from _Notre-Dame._ Soon they could hear other bells from the smaller churches in Paris tolling as well, joining the sound of the big bell.

"Something must have happened!" d'Artagnan exclaimed.

"It's way too early for the bells to chime." Porthos confirmed.

"It's the sound of _Emmanuel*_!" Aramis shouted and they all realised immediately what that had to mean. The bell with the name _Emmanuel_ was only tolled on special occasions like Easter or Christmas, or if something bad had happened, warning the people of Paris and calling the soldiers of the King to their posts and to serve and protect their King and Queen.

"Where's Tréville?"

Athos asked quietly. He was still on light duty and had not joined the others for morning muster by order of the Captain so that he could recuperate fully.

"Still at the palace - he left this morning for a meeting with the King." Aramis informed him.

"Gather the men, saddle the horses, we will be needed at the palace." Athos ordered, running towards his quarters to fetch his uniform.

They all knew exactly what to do. They had their instructions, had trained in case _Emmanuel_ tolled - so many times. D'Artagnan and Porthos had no problems gathering the few other Musketeers who were still at the garrison. Aramis, who had gone to the infirmary to get his medical kit was stopped on his way back when he heard the clattering of horse hooves. Several seconds later he saw Pierre riding in haste through the archway which led to the garrison's courtyard.

"I have orders from the Captain! Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan are to go to the Cardinal's quarters and the other men shall help the Red Guards to guard the palace!" Pierre shouted, gasping for air, staying on his horse.

"What has happened?" Aramis asked curiously.

"Henri didn't say, He only told me that Tréville ordered that I should ride as fast as I could to the garrison and fetch you and the others." he explained.

"What about me?" Athos reappeared, dressed in his uniform, his weapons belt fixed on his hip, he had caught Pierre's last words.

"Henri didn't say you were ordered to come as well." Pierre explained. "I guess Tréville still wants you to take it easy for a while." He shrugged, knowing that he had said everything what was needed, he turned his horse and galloped back.

Athos put his right hand on his chin in thought, bending his head slightly for a second, his strategical mind already planning how to proceed, then he looked into Aramis' brown eyes, who stood directly in front of him.

"I'm coming with you." he announced in a firm voice which brooked no objection. But the medic ignored him, observing his brother closely and feeling concerned at what he saw.

"I knew you would say that, but perhaps, you should stay here. If Tréville didn't demand send for you, it's probably not that bad." Aramis answered him quietly. "The fact that he has sent Pierre means that he is not injured." he added reading Athos' thoughts.

"Hmm …"

Athos' mind was racing, thinking about what might have happened. The bell was tolled for the death of the Pope, the King or other members of the royal family, but Pierre would have known that. Rumours like this would spread fast. Maybe a fire, but he didn't smell anything and there was so black smoke in the air.

"Maybe the Pope is dead." Aramis offered, trying to read Athos' mind.

"How convenient, so soon after Richelieu is back in Paris."

Athos huffed, thinking about the moment when the Pope had tried to murder the Cardinal by poisoning him several months ago. Richelieu had returned late last night and Athos had still not figured out what they could do against him, besides being watchful in order to protect Aramis. Captain Tréville had announced that they would meet that evening in his office to discuss the whole matter.

"It could be. In that case, Tréville doesn't need all of us." Aramis suggested.

"No, the Captain wouldn't have sent then for all the remaining men." Athos shook his head.

"Maybe he fears tumult on the streets."

"Aramis, not because of the death of the Pope in Rome." Athos raised his eyebrow.

"You never know … it was just a guess." Aramis put a hand on Athos' shoulder squeezing it briefly.

"No, Tréville doesn't think that I'm already fit for duty _or for whatever might have happened_ ..." Athos shook his head, falling silent again.

Aramis could sense Athos' disappointment and frustration.

"You are only back on light duty for about a week now, Athos. Maybe he simply wants to protect you." Aramis said calmly.

"I'm fine, Aramis!"

Athos said slightly unnerved searching his friend's eyes and waiting for his approving nod, knowing that they needed to go.

"Or he needs you here to coordinate everything from the garrison." Aramis added quietly, sensing that now was not the time to start a discussion about Tréville's decision and bringing their talk back to neutral ground.

"He would have given exact instructions, if this was the case. Come on Aramis, move!" Athos ordered.

The medic followed his Lieutenant, satisfied that Athos was fit for duty, otherwise he would have objected.

As the four Inséperables were riding as fast as the narrow streets of Paris allowed towards the palace, followed by their comrades, they were all deep in thought. Their instincts were wide awake, ready to draw their weapons to protect their King and Queen and wondering what might have occured for someone to order _Emmanuel_ to be tolled.

 **XXXXX**

 ** _Earlier at the palace_**

Cardinal Richelieu dropped, exhausted, onto the chair next to his desk. Feeling thirsty, he poured himself a glass of water from a tankard and emptied it in one go. He felt miserable. It had started that morning. After mass, he had hurried over to his office to drink and eat something and afterwards he was expected at a meeting with the King. His Majesty had expected a detailed report regarding his journey to the Pope in Rome. He had returned the previous night, later than he had expected, but one wheel of his carriage had broken and so he had to stay over in a small village in Italy before finally being able to travel back to Paris.

As expected, the talk with the Pope in Rome had renewed his belief that he did not have the interest of France at heart, but only money, power and his own wealth. For Richelieu the whole journey had been a waste of time, but King Louis had demanded him explicitly to go.

The throne room had been much too sticky and hot for Richelieu's liking and he had wanted to loosen the top buttons of his long dark garment several times to get more air. Giving a short report and trying to ignore the fact that Captain Tréville was attending the meeting as well, he had tried to hurry, but King Louis had wanted to hear every single detail, not only about the talk itself, but what the palace of the Pope in Rome, _the Lateran_ , looked like. King Louis was considering redecorating several of his larger halls and wanted to hear how those rooms were draped in Rome.

With a grim smile and a slightly flushed face, Richelieu had given his report, suggesting that one of his servants, who had accompanied him, could describe these details to the King better than he, but Louis had insisted on hearing his impressions.

As soon as the meeting was over, Richelieu had excused himself, beads of sweat covering his forehead. Captain Tréville, who had stayed behind to talk over some other matters regarding the guard and the regiment of the Musketeers had looked after him, concerned. The Cardinal had looked pale and sick, more like a ghost. He assumed that the long journey had troubled Richelieu. It was the first time that they had met each other after their argument in his office and Tréville was already waiting for a second confrontation with him, but he was prepared for it.

Cardinal Richelieu had barely made it back to his office. Having suddenly breathing difficulties, he paused several times. When one of his Red Guards offered to help him, he shouted angrily at him, sending him away, regretting it instantly because he was gripped by a cough, that nearly made him pass out.

Now, he was leaning more and more heavily on his chair. He drank another glass of water, hoping that his skin would feel less hot and he forced his fingers to open several of his top buttons to get more air.

 _What's wrong with me? Perhaps I am developing a cold. It rained heavily on our way back. I probably only need to lie down for a few hours and rest._

The Cardinal tried to get up from his chair, to walk over to a second room to his bedchamber, but a sudden pain in his upper arm made him drop back on his chair. He felt hot and cold at the same time. With his hand he tried to massage the pain in his shoulder away and it seemed to help, as the pain lessened a little.

 _I should call for a doctor, maybe some medicine will help …_

"Arghhh …!"

The Cardinal screamed out loud. Another, more intense pain, gripped his chest and nearly made him double over. He opened his mouth wide, catching desperate for more oxygen, while feeling hot and cold again. The pain lasted for several minutes and left him out of breath. When the pain in his chest finally subsided again Richelieu reached for the water tankard once again. With trembling fingers, he drank. The Cardinal felt as if his heart was bursting in his chest and he felt suddenly very weak.

 _I need to lie down. Now._

He struggled to his feet, his rapid heartbeat drumming in his ears. He took one step forward. The chest pain appeared again, even more intense than the first time.

 _What's happening to me?_

He clutched his hand to the middle of his chest, trying to get rid of the stinging pain, while his heart was starting to beat like a galloping horse. He tried to catch a breath, but he couldn't. He felt his feet giving away under him. When he slumped forward his blurry eyes noticed a vase with blue flowers on his desk - _forget-me-nots_.

 _I didn't notice those this morning …_

Richelieu's eyes widened in horror as realisation hit him.

 _Poison … Milady …_ A picture of the beautiful woman who had worked for him as a spy came into his mind.

"Hel …"

He tried to shout, but he could only make some undecipherable sounds. He fell over, taking the vase and tankard with him, which dropped to the cold marble stone floor just like him.

With eyes wide open and his hand clutching over and over at his chest he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't stop his racing heart, he couldn't move, the last thought occurred to him was that he was dying. He lay on the floor, with no one near him, nobody had heard him collapsing, he couldn't shout.

 _I was wrong … I am stoppable …_

This was his last thought, then his heart stopped beating after pulsing heavier than before in his chest. His last breath left his lips, which turning them slightly blue. The hand he had pressed on his heart slipped loosely several inches over his chest. His eyes and mouth wide open, he looked in an odd glance upon the dark ceiling of his office, but his eyes couldn't see anything anymore.

Cardinal Richelieu was gone. He had died alone in his office! His heart had stopped beating in his chest.

Several minutes later one of his valets knocked on the door. After listening for a few seconds for any sound he opened the door and saw the Cardinal lying on the floor. A maid who was cleaning the corridor heard his scream and hurried over. More and more people came by. A Red Guard left to call for a doctor even though he knew that all help was too late.

Rumours spread quickly that the King was on his way together with Captain Tréville being alarmed that something had happened to the Cardinal. The maid stood stock still in the room next to the dead body of the clergy. When she heard that the King would come, she looked at the flowers and shards of the vase and tankard that were lying next to the Cardinal's head. Out of habit and fearing that the King would rebuke her that the floor was not cleaned she bent down and gathered the remains of the tankard, vase and flowers and took them away, before the King entered the room, unaware that she was removing the evidence that would have proven that Cardinal Richelieu had been poisoned.

 **XXXXX**

Tréville had witnessed many strange, bizarre and odd occurrences during his time as a soldier and as the Captain of the Musketeers. He had seen many dead people, men dying on a battlefield, in the infirmary, nevertheless he wasn't prepared for what awaited him this morning at the palace.

All hell broke loose when a Red Guard had come running to inform the King that the Cardinal was ill. Louis insisted on checking on him immediately. Fearing for his advisor, he rushed through the long corridors, Tréville next to him, giving orders to two of his Musketeers to call for a doctor, not trusting the Red Guard had already done that.

When they arrived at Richelieu's office King Louis rushed forward, shooing some curious pages and valets away. Using his arms to pull them back, he reached the lifeless body of the Cardinal. Hoping against hope, he dropped next to him on the floor and cradled his head in his lap, his arms slung round the lifeless upper body, shouting his name and demanding to talk to him. Captain Tréville, and two other Musketeers who had accompanied him, had to use all their strength to pull the crying and distraught King away from the corpse of the clergyman.

"He cannot be dead! He just spoke to us! This cannot be true!" Louis shouted, tears running down his face.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry, but he is gone."

Tréville tried to reach the King using a calm tone, but he knew that Louis was not ready to accept or understand the loss of the advisor he had valued like a father, asking his advice and depending on him in so many decisions.

"He shall stand up, now!"

King Louis sounded more like a defiant child, than a grown-up man and the ruler of France at this moment, and Tréville searched feverishly for a way to bring Louis out of the Cardinal's office. At least they had managed to sit him on the chair, Cardinal Richelieu had rested on only minutes before.

The arrival of Queen Anne -in her last month of her pregnancy-, and much calmer than her husband was a blessing, after realising that the Cardinal was dead, she hurried over to her husband. Talking calmly and quietly to him and with Tréville steadying him, they helped Louis up and out of the room to his own quarters. Leaving Richelieu's office, Louis looked one last time at his First Minister and said:

"You have to ring the big bell, the bell from _Notre-Dame_. It has to announce the death of the First Minister of France." The King cried.

"Louis, this can wait." Queen Anne tried to reason with him, holding a hand to her belly, feeling her unborn child kicking.

"Now!" Louis shouted with tears in his eyes and Tréville gave a discreet sign to one of his men to fulfill this task immediately.

 **XXXXX**

Hearing the tolling of the big bell in _Notre-Dame_ told Milady that her plan had been successful. Cardinal Richelieu, the First Minister of France, was dead.

 _It's somehow ironic._ Milady thought. _He has taught me how to become an assassin only to be murdered by me. He deserved it! He threatened to kill me and not only me …_

Milady justified herself, she shrugged, shook her head and tried to get rid of old memories, which laid in her past and started to haunt her lately.

After returning from the palace earlier that day, she had gathered all her belongings she wanted to take with her, a horse was waiting in a stable nearby. Everything was organised for her departure. Now she could finally keep her promise she had given to Captain Tréville that she would leave Paris.

 _It's time to say farewell._ She thought.

She had mixed emotions about succeeding with her plan- satisfaction, relief, pride. Her thoughts wandered back to the moment when the news had reached her that d'Artagnan had killed Athos after she had begged him to do it. She had felt differently back then. Suddenly so empty …

Milady swallowed hard remembering her journey of vengeance. How she was obsessed to kill him, the love of her life. He had ordered to hang her, after the death of his brother. Cowardly he had rode away not able to witness her death. Oh, how she had hated him fiercely. She had felt so hurt, so lost … but when her day of revenge had finally arrived, the cruel deed was done, she wasn't relieved at all, but somehow very sad realising that now there was no way back. Her purpose in life had gone from one moment to the next.

Tiredly and angry about herself she wiped some tears out of her eyes, too proud to let them run over her face, too self-controlled to allow herself to break down now after all these months that Athos had had the chance to kill her, but had spared her life.

 _Stop swallowing in self-pity, Ann. You need to go!_ She told herself.

Leaving her room she had occupied over the past few weeks, she stepped out of the house into a small side street of Paris. The sound of the big bell sounded like music in her ears. With a smile of satisfaction and pride on her face she neared the stable.

She had patiently waited for the return of the Cardinal for weeks, had figured out a plan to enter the Cardinal's quarters without being seen and to poison his water tankard. She knew that it was risky, but she decided to leave the vase with a bundle of _forget-me-nots_ on his desk, a sentimental notion, she admitted to herself- her sign that she was not so easily threatened - not by a previous patron - not by anyone! Richelieu should know who had finally stopped his evil doing – not that she was any better.

Again her thoughts started to drift. This time to the day when she had nursed the Cardinal after he had been poisoned by this weird clergyman from Rome who had tried to condemn Ninon de Larroque as a witch. She had laughed kind of bemused when Richelieu asked her, if it was her doing, while she had wiped his forehead with a cool wet cloth after the attack on his life.

 _When I'm going to poison someone_ _I know how to do it correctly. I've just proven that._

Her horse neighed impatiently and stamped with one of its hoofs on the dirty ground of the stable, such as if the brown stallion wanted to tell her that they needed to leave. She ignored the horse.

Months ago, she hadn't thought of poisoning or killing the Cardinal. He had been her benefactor, had paid her, so that she could live again to the standard she was used to have, when she was still married to Athos. She could pretend to be a noble woman, she could go to assemblies and balls of the King – not that she was keen to go there-, most of all with the Cardinal's support and protection she could follow her aim to kill her husband. But by being so obsessed with her plan, she had started to become careless and sloppy. She had failed to fulfill the Cardinal's order to assassin Queen Anne. In the aftermath Richelieu had threatened to kill her. She had become a risk to him and his power.

 _He has deserved to die. His plans are evil. He wanted to see me dead. Through his doing Athos was nearly killed. Do I still love him?_

Milady wondered while finally mounting the stallion.

 _He spared your life, Ann. I am done with hatred, I am done with revenge, I am done with mourning over our past, Athos._ She told herself over and over again. _We cannot go back, but a world without you Athos, would leave me emptier than I ever had imagined. I couldn't help you on that day, but I can prevent that Richelieu will try to kill Aramis a second time and thus endanger you._

The horse neighed again, just as if it agreed to her thoughts:

 _No, Richelieu deserved to die!_

Milady shuddered remembering how she had watched from the distance seeing Athos lying severely wounded in the grass. She had not been able to help him. This moment had made it more than obvious to her that she still had feelings for Athos. It had nearly broken her heart seeing him so vulnerable and defenceless.

 _Why do I still love you, Athos? You_ _hurt me yet I am still bound to you …_

 _What is this between us?_ _It will never be as it once was._

 _Forget him, Ann!_ She rebuked herself. _Oh, I wish it was that simple._

 _I need to forget him and I can only do this when I leave Paris._

 _He's better, I trust Tréville's words._

Milady slowly rode through the small lanes of Paris near _Notre-Dame_ , towards _Pont du Neuf_ , towards the gates of Paris. The hoofs of her stallion clopped aloud on the uneven cobbles.

Now and then during these past weeks she re-vived her good times with Athos, dreaming of this one perfect summer, when he had fallen in love with her, not knowing who she really was. Her plan had been to trick him, to marry him and gain his fortune and power. No more hunger, no more being poor or living on the street, but she had not foreseen that this young Comte would steal her heart instead. She was not prepared for love. She wasn't certain of her love for him at first, but when his brother Thomas had found out about her past, she had been afraid of not losing her title and wealth but Athos.

 _I lost him nevertheless by killing his younger brother!_ Milady laughed bitterly.

Milady's thoughts wandered back from Athos to the Cardinal. By now he had been found, by now he was dead. It had taken her several days to consider what to do, but after listing to the talk between him and Don Fernando, she had come up with the plan to murder the Cardinal. She had wanted to do it weeks ago, but then Richelieu had travelled to Rome and she had to postpone her plans.

It had given her time to gather more money, to organise the correct poison. Everything should look like Richelieu had suffered a heart attack. She had met with an old apothecary whom she had heard of could deliver what she needed. When the old man turned out to be greedy, she didn't pay him at all, but knifed him down and left with the flask and her money. The old man's body was now dumped in the _Seine_ and it would take some time until it would be discovered further down the river.

After this was done, she had started to reach out to her old contacts at the palace, here a Red Guard, there a valet, bribing a maid or promising a lady-in-waiting something she could only help with. She had been the spy of the Cardinal long enough to know about the secret, hidden entrances to the palace, secret doors and corridors, which made it possible for her to bring the tankard with the poisoned water and put it on Richelieu's desk, together with the _forget-me-nots_ , without being seen.

Milady didn't regret what she had done. Now she was ready to leave. She had heard of a group of people kidnapping workers and selling them as slaves to ships heading to the new world. She would join them, offer them their service, to gain some more money, to travel to England and to finally fulfill Athos' last wish to leave and never come back.

Milady looked up and could see riders in blue coming nearer from the other side of the bridge.

 _Musketeers! Athos and his comrades …_ She held her breath.

She goaded her stallion, so that the men would not recognise her – Athos would figure out at once that the Cardinal's death was not an accident, when he noticed her now. While she galloped over the bridge their path crossed for the last time, only Athos was unaware of it, too concentrated to reach the palace as soon as possible. She watched him riding together with his comrades, hurrying to the palace.

 _If he can ride again, he's definitely better._

A smile hushed over her face, followed by a deep sadness she suddenly felt rising in her. Not ready to look back she urged her horse hurrying to the outsides of Paris. She wasn't aware what her devilish deed of killing the First Minister of France would soon provoke and that the love she just thought she had lost forever would enter her life very soon again. She was focused on the road in front of her, finally letting go of all her memories which only made her sad and concentrating on what might lie in front of her: England and hopefully a prosperous, new life there!

 **XXXXX**

 ** _A little later at the palace_**

"The doctor has just confirmed it. Richelieu suffered a heart attack."

Tréville looked at the Inseperables, who had gathered around him in the Cardinal's office. The corpse of the clergyman had been carried away, before they had arrived, otherwise Aramis might have seen the blue lips and come to a different conclusion from) the doctor.

"I cannot believe that he is dead. A heart attack, really?" Aramis murmured.

"Probably the stress of the long journey to Rome and back." Tréville mused, still trying to convince himself that he wasn't dreaming.

"One problem less." Athos muttered, realising, that now, they did not need fear another attempt on Aramis' life.

"Athos!" The sharp rebuke from his Captain came at once. "Not here, not now." Tréville added more calmly and in a low voice. "Besides you shouldn't be here."

Athos shrugged:

"I'm a Musketeer and serve my King." He answered in a monotone, his face not giving anything away of his thoughts or feelings.

"What shall we do, Captain?" D'Artagnan interrupted the staring match between the Captain and his Lieutenant.

"Inform all your comrades. We will protect and guard the palace to reassure the King that he is safe. Other than that, we cannot do much."

"Aramis and I will secure his office. We'll make sure that no one will enter these and the other rooms of the Cardinal's quarters." Athos suggested.

Tréville nodded his agreement, figuring that it was a task that his still recuperating officer could fulfill easily, then he ordered Porthos and d'Artagnan to follow him. When Aramis was alone with Athos he looked at his brother curiously.

"What do you have in mind, Athos?"

"Now will be our only chance to see if Richelieu had some written notes …" He didn't continue, knowing very well that these walls might have ears.

"You are right!" Aramis slapped his friend's back and the both of them started to search the cupboards which were filled with books and papers.

"Do you think he really died of natural causes?"

Aramis asked several minutes later, while hurriedly going through documents. Still wearing his leather gloves, his fingers scanned the written lines quickly, but the texts he had scanned so far hadn't indicated any hints that Richelieu had written anything suspicious about the Queen or him down.

"Who knows … He's been to Rome. Maybe the Pope succeeded in poisoning him this time. He has tried it before." Athos crossed the room and sat down at Richelieu's desk. He felt exhausted and drained, but he didn't want Aramis to notice it.

"I guess it is not our business to examine his corpse." Aramis mumbled.

"Such an order must come from the Captain. I assume that he will follow the judgement of the palace doctor." Athos went through some more papers, but none of the documents had anything) to do with the Musketeer Regiment.

"He has to have some notes on the Musketeers somewhere?"

Aramis shook his head, dissatisfied.

"If … they are not here." Athos added as a knock on the door made them both look up. Henri appeared at the threshold of the door.

"Order from the Captain, you are to join him at his office in the garrison, as soon as possible."

"Thank you Henri." Athos nodded to him.

Aramis, who was nearer to the door, left first. Athos, who was still searching had found a hidden stash in Richelieu's desk, but it turned out that the notes were not about Musketeer business, slowly stood up.

"Nothing." He mumbled to himself and Aramis could hear the dissatisfaction in his friend's voice.

The tired swordsman passed the desk on the same side of the table where Richelieu had collapsed, dying on the floor. He heard some crunching which was caused by his boots when they trapped into something which he recognised as little bits of glass. Small shards covered the floor next to Richelieu's table. Athos' glanced at the floor. He noticed several small blue blossoms and a tiny green stem on the floor. He knelt down and took the green peduncle** with three blue blossoms on it in his hand.

 _Forget-me-nots._ Athos frowned. _Can it be that Aramis is right … that the Cardinal was murdered. Is this Ann's doing?_

Athos looked at the blue flower, absent-mindedly.

"Athos?" Aramis had stopped at the threshold, realising that his brother wasn't following him.

"I'm coming." Athos shook his head.

 _I'm already seeing ghosts._

He let the small flower drop to the floor and followed the medic outside, feeling slightly relieved to leave that dark place - he had never liked this office nor the man who occupied it. Even though Tréville had rebuked him earlier about his words, he had meant them from the bottom of his heart. With the Cardinal's death Aramis was safe for now and he would do everything necessary to keep it that way.

 ** _The finale end!_**

* * *

 ** _That's it! Thank you for reading. If you want you can leave me a review! I am not sure when I will be back with another story. I have several ideas …_**

 ** _Anyway, writing in a foreign language is very time consuming, not only for me, but for a beta as well, and right now I won't find the time to do it, so you have to be patient with me_** ** _xx Kira_**

* * *

 ** _Notes:_**

 ** _*_** ** _"_** ** _The cathedral [Notre-Dame, Paris] has 10 bells. The largest, Emmanuel, original to 1681, is located in the south tower and weighs just over 13 tons and is tolled to mark the hours of the day and for various occasions and services. This bell is always rung first, at least 5 seconds before the rest." Source:_** ** _Wikipedia-article, Notre-Dame, Paris._**

 ** _In the Wikipedia version I checked first it says that there was a previous version to this bell. Anyway Emmanuel was built several decades after my story takes place. Due to the fact that even Dumas and the TV show bent historical facts from time to time, I allowed myself to put it already in this story. It is tolled to Easter, Christmas and so on or to the death of the Pope and to other occasions. The bell is called with its second name Marie-Thérèse after the name of the wife of King Louis XIV._**

 ** _**_** ** _"_** ** _peduncle": I looked that word up and my beta asked me what's the meaning of it and advised me to explain it. It seems to be a biological expression for "stem". I hope it is the correct word otherwise I am sure you will tell me._**


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